


The Devil in Me

by Holz9364, Mort623



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Anti-Muggle Content, BAMF Daphne Greengrass, Banshee Powers, Banshees, Blood and Gore, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Deaf Character, Death Eater Harry Potter, Draco has double standards, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Drug Use, Eventual Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass, Everyone has daddy issues, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, George Weasley is still holey, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Good Death Eaters, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Its barely implied and they didn't even have sex tbf, Its slow burn with those two to begin with though, M/M, Magical Triad, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Manipulative Harry Potter, Molly Weasley Bashing, Multi, Multiple Relationships, No sex scenes til Harry turns 17 (chapter 13), Open Relationships, Oral Sex, POV Harry Potter, Pagan Festivals, Pansy Parkinson is a total bimbo, Past Child Abuse, Past Daphne Greengrass/Blaise Zabini, Past Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott - Freeform, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Voldemort/Bellatrix Lestrange, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Ron Weasley Bashing, Ron Weasley is a dick, Rough Sex, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Second War with Voldemort, Semi-Public Sex, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Somewhat Good Voldemort (Harry Potter), Werewolf Fred Weasley, forced drug overdose, more pairings to be added, werewolf triad pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 220,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holz9364/pseuds/Holz9364, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mort623/pseuds/Mort623
Summary: What if Severus Snape had taken pity on Harry Potter? What if he had told him the truth at the end of his sixth year? The truth is that he is a Horcrux and that as part of Dumbledore's grand plan, he will have to sacrifice himself to kill the Dark Lord.Well, the trouble was, telling him the truth seemed like a great idea at the time, but it really didn't go the way Snape wanted it to. He realised that the minute Albus Dumbledore mysteriously dropped dead, but by the time Harry comes back to Hogwarts as Head Boy for his final year, the rest of the world know it too. His new tattoo has as much meaning as the baby Basilisk around his shoulders and nobody, even those he was formerly friends with, wants to mess with him.Now that he has Harry on side, can Voldemort win the war that so many said he was destined to lose?Only time will tell.UPDATES EVERY WEDNESDAY by 8pm GMT.
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Male Character(s), Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Lily Moon/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Tom Riddle/Lily Moon, Voldemort/Lily Moon
Comments: 351
Kudos: 862
Collections: Dark Liege Potter, Marvelous Dark Harry, Mr Potter and Mr Riddle, The Harry Potters





	1. Between Heaven and Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of the dialogue are out of ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince’ because of the nature of the story, it has to begin with canon until it diverges into AU. Of course DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling owns the characters, the places, etc. I’m just twisting my own narrative out of it.
> 
> The story (and chapter title) are lyrics from the song:  
> War on a Desperate Man by Eli Young Band.

“So the boy must die?”

Severus asked the question calmly, but his heart pounded in his chest. His head spun at the revelation that had just fallen from Albus Dumbledore’s lips.

Dumbledore looked at him over the top of his half-moon glasses and bowed his head.

“And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”

The older man prattled on about the reasons behind this logic, and although Severus heard him, he didn’t give the words his full attention. Dumbledore closed his eyes, but Severus very much doubted that this confession caused him pain, he doubted that Dumbledore cared what happened to Harry Potter, but _he_ did.

He cared because Lily had cared. He cared about keeping Harry alive because the boy was the only part of _her_ that he could hold onto.

When Dumbledore opened his eyes, he looked at Severus sceptically. No doubt because of the expression of mingled horror and disgust on his face.

“You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?” Severus asked quietly.

Dumbledore mistook his tone for one of calmness when, in reality, it was quiet anger.

“Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?”

That hit hard. Those words were like a punch to the gut. Yes, Severus knew he was far from perfect. He was by no means the good guy in all of this, but then again, neither was Dumbledore. He had used Severus, but worse than that – he had used Harry. From the ripe old age of one, he had used that baby to shape his own plans.

Severus did not let his discord show. Instead, he looked Dumbledore in the eye and evenly replied, “Lately, only those whom I could not save.”

Dumbledore raised a curious eyebrow.

Severus rose from his chair and moved towards the door. He did not leave, though.

“You have used me.”

“Meaning?”

Severus took a breath but made sure not to let his anger show. He kept his tone even, and his gaze steady.

“I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter-”

“But this is touching, Severus,” Dumbledore said with a sincereness that Severus did not believe.

“Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”

Severus almost scoffed. Yes, he cared about the boy's welfare, but it had nothing to do with him; he was ignorant just like his father, but then there were moments when all Severus could see in him was Lily.

“For him? _Expecto Patronum_!”

A silver doe erupted from his wand and danced around the office. The two men watched it silently, Severus cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the Patronus.

“After all this time?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Always.”

His reply was merely a whisper, but he knew that Dumbledore had heard it. He did not wait for a response before he swept out of the Headmaster’s Office, his black robes billowing behind him.

Severus was loyal to Dumbledore, but he was under no illusion about the man's true nature. He was one straw short of being a psychopath as far as Severus was concerned, but he had offered him protection when he needed it.

Loyalty did not come into his decision-making anyway. Severus had always been a true Slytherin, and as such, his only motivator was keeping himself alive and thus far, he had done that by picking the side that he felt would win and serving them as best as he could.

The decision he needed to make now was a difficult one. Did he go behind Dumbledore’s back and tell Harry Potter the truth now? If he did, he would be giving the boy a fighting chance, and if he did not, Harry would surely die. He could not help but wonder what Lily would want him to do.

Severus sighed and entered his quarters. Whatever he did, he had better decide soon because he knew what Draco had been planning all year, he knew what the Dark Lords next steps were. Soon Dumbledore would be dead, by his hand or Draco’s he did not know, but when the old man fell, Harry Potter would swiftly become the Dark Lord’s next target.

Would Lily want him to fight nobly and die a martyrs death? Or would she just want to give him a fighting chance of survival?

* * *

It was May – the days were longer, the sun was brighter, but Harry had never felt more miserable. He had developed an unhealthy obsession with Draco Malfoy as of late and to make matters worse, none of his friends believed that the blonde boy was a Death Eater. His recent crush on Ginny Weasley made him just as miserable because she had spent the majority of the year dating Dean Thomas. He had no idea where the jealous monster in his chest had come from, just last year she had been nothing more than his friend and Ron’s little sister.

Harry sighed and looked out at the setting sun. He was supposed to be doing his homework, but he wasn’t in the mood, which was why he had come to the dorm room to avoid Hermione and her nagging.

A tap at the window distracted him. Harry looked up sharply and saw an owl outside the dorm room window. He jumped up and opened it, taking the letter from her anxiously. Very few people wrote to him when he was at Hogwarts, and it puzzled him further when he didn’t recognise the writing.

Harry unrolled the scroll all the same and scanned the words within the letter.

_I know you have been using my book this year, and I presume you are intrigued about my identity. I knew your parents, and I have information about them, Voldemort and Dumbledore. Meet me in the Shrieking Shack tonight at 10 pm._

_I know that you have an invisibility cloak, but you must come alone.”_

Harry breathed in sharply when he read the signature. The author had signed the letter as _“The Half-Blood Prince.”_

He looked at the clock on the wall – it was almost 9 pm, minutes away from the curfew. He had time to go down to the common room and drag Ron and Hermione into a corner. Better yet, he could wait until Ron came up to bed and tell him about the mysterious letter.

But something told him not to. Something told him to trust the Half-Blood Prince. Harry kept his gaze on the silhouette of the Shrieking Shack in the distance. Hermione didn’t trust the prince; she had been on Harry’s case about the book from day one and Ron, well Ron was just envious that Harry had become so good at potions because of it all of a sudden.

Harry bit his lip and tapped his quill absentmindedly. Should he tell Ron? And if he could trust the prince, then why was he asking Harry to come alone?

“You okay, Harry?”

Harry jumped – Merlin; he was paranoid. He had thought that he was alone in the dorm room, but the familiar voice had come from Neville’s bed.

“Uh, yeah, Neville,” Harry said distractedly, “I thought I was alone, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Neville said. He pulled the curtains back around his bed and smiled weakly at Harry.

“I had a headache, so I came up here for some peace. You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind?”

Harry sighed. Yes, he did have a lot on his mind, but how was that any different from usual? He barely slept; he never wanted to eat; all he did was worry. It was no life.

“I have to do something tonight, Neville,” Harry said, “And I need to do it alone. You can’t tell Ron and Hermione, okay?”

Neville frowned at him, “Harry, you’re scaring me with that kind of talk.”

Harry shook his head, “I need to meet someone, and they…they can’t know.”

“Why?” asked Neville.

Harry couldn’t give him a straight answer because, in all honesty, he didn’t know himself. He frowned and looked down at the letter in his hands.

“I…I don’t know Neville. Something is off this year. They aren’t…they just don’t seem the same.”

Neville frowned but said nothing.

“If I’m not back by midnight, tell Dumbledore that I met someone in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry said. He folded up the letter and put it in his pocket.

“Harry,” Neville said. His tone of voice made Harry look up; he hadn’t heard Neville sound that tentative for a long time.

“Yeah?”

“Just be careful.”

Harry nodded, “I will be.”

He had meant it. Harry was well aware that he might be walking into a trap so he would be going in prepared. The prince had told him to come alone and had mentioned his invisibility cloak – he had taken that as a warning not to hide anyone else under it. Still, he would wear it the minute he emerged from the whomping willow tunnel into the old shack.

It never hurt to be too cautious, and Harry had learned that at a young age. He grabbed his cloak and the Marauders map and snuck out of the Gryffindor common room. He camped out in an empty classroom until it got closer to 10 pm, then he headed for the grounds.

The darkened grounds always made him shiver, no matter the time of year. The darkness created shadows and the sounds of strange creatures could be heard on the wind when it blew away from the Forbidden Forest. Harry used a stick to freeze the branches of the old willow, and then he crawled into the passageway, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

He reached the trapdoor and held his breath, listening for any movement within the old house. When Harry heard nothing, he pulled his cloak on and clambered out. He couldn’t see anyone in the shack which was lit only by moonlight, streaming through the cracks in the rotting timber.

Instinctively, Harry headed upstairs towards the room where Sirius had taken Ron, back in third year. He knew the prince wasn’t Sirius, he was dead, and he had been a pureblood. But all the same, his gut told him that the prince would be in that room.

Harry took a breath and pushed open the door. When he stepped inside, somebody pulled his cloak off, and his eyes widened.

“ _You?_ ”

“Who, pray, did you expect? Godric Gryffindor?” Severus Snape drawled.

Harry shook his head, angrily.

“You’re the Half-Blood Prince?”

“Yes, Potter,” Snape replied, “I am the Half-Blood Prince. My father was a Muggle, and my mother’s maiden name was Prince. I knew that you had that book the moment Slughorn told me about your prowess in Potions class. A dunderhead like you could hardly become a skilled potioneer overnight, after all.”

Harry scowled at the greasy-haired man.

“You lied to me in your letter.”

“I did no such thing,” Snape remarked, “I did know your parents, and I do have information about them.”

“And Voldemort and Dumbledore,” Harry said, eyeing him suspiciously, “You said that too.”

Snape bowed his head, “Congratulations – you have learned how to read.”

Harry scoffed, “Well, this has been a delightful meeting, Professor, but since this is obviously a trap, I reckon I’ll be going now.”

Snape rolled his eyes, “A trap? Potter, you have no sense of what a good trap entails if you think _this_ is a trap.”

Before Harry could yank the door open, Snape dropped his wand and looked Harry dead in the eye.

“I am unarmed. Does it seem like less of a trap now?”

Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“To tell you the truth - something our esteemed Headmaster should have done a long time ago,” Snape replied dryly.

“But…but…you hate me,” Harry said stupidly.

“Well, it seems that you have learned something over the past six years,” Snape drawled. He took a step closer to Harry.

“I very much doubt that you will believe anything that I tell you, so I am going to show you.”

Harry frowned and took a step back. He hit the door, and Snape smirked at his uncomfortableness.

“The last time someone said that it was Tom Riddle and then he sucked me into his diary,” Harry said sarcastically, “So forgive me if I’m a bit wary, Professor.”

Snape scoffed, “Did you learn nothing last year? I can invade your head with just one word, and unless you have drastically improved your Occlumency skills, there would be nothing that you could do about it.”

Harry said nothing because it was true. He hadn’t improved his Occlumency skills, Snape was right.

“You may recall an occasion when you managed to see inside my mind,” Snape said, his eyes flashing angrily, “That is proof that you can cast the spell so you must do it again. I will open my mind to you, so there will be no resistance.”

Harry’s frown deepened, “But…”

“Simply say the incantation – _Legilimens_ – and focus on my mind,” Snape drawled.

Harry had no idea what was happening, but he was too curious to argue. He raised his wand and pointed it at Snape, something he had wanted to do for a long-time, but to curse the greasy-haired git not to read his mind.

He took a breath and said, “ _Legilimens!”_

As Snape had promised, there was no resistance. In his mind, memories began to play out, but they were not Harry’s, they were Snape’s.

Harry watched a young Snape meet a young Lily Evans – his mother. He watched their friendship blossom, watched her be sorted into Gryffindor while Snape went to Slytherin. He watched his parents fall in love; he saw Lily’s friendship with Snape fall apart. Then came the painful memories – the ones that ultimately broke Harry.

Snape heard the prophecy. _He_ told Voldemort about it. He was the reason that Voldemort had come after Harry’s parents. Yes, he hadn’t known, and yes, he regretted it. Harry saw him meet with Dumbledore, and he realised why Snape had turned spy, what he had risked to protect him, to protect Lily Potter’s son.

Harry began to understand Snape, but as the memories became more recent – he began to hate Dumbledore more. Harry saw Dumbledore ask Snape about his cursed hand, and Snape told him that he had a year to live.

Dumbledore knew that Voldemort had tasked Draco with killing him? He knew, and he had decided to do nothing about it? Had he decided to let a 16-year-old boy rip himself apart with guilt over such a monumental task? That made Harry’s blood boil with rage because he had been forced into difficult decisions, he had made the wrong choice sometimes, like when Sirius died. Knowing that Draco, a boy he had once hated, had been forced into something so terrible made him angry, but not at Voldemort for giving the order. At Dumbledore for knowing and deciding to let it happen. Dumbledore knew that Draco would be unable to perform the task; he asked Snape to kill him to gain Voldemort’s complete and utter trust.

The last memory played out, and this one dealt the fatal blow. It was the moment that Harry discovered that Dumbledore had engineered his entire life, that he had raised him to die at precisely the right moment. He was a Horcrux, and suddenly, everything else made sense – his strange ability to speak to snakes, the absurd connection between himself and Voldemort.

Snape pushed Harry out of his mind, and for a moment, Harry didn’t even notice that he was back in the real world. He gripped one of the four posters of the bed in the room and breathed heavily as this knowledge crushed him.

“He betrayed me,” Harry breathed.

“He betrayed both of us,” Snape replied icily, “I have spent years protecting you just so that he can have you die at the right moment. He wants you to die a martyr.”

Harry shook his head, torn between disbelief and anger.

“I debated telling you the truth,” Snape said honestly. His tone was quiet and hard to read, “In the end, I did what I thought Lily would want.”

Harry looked up sharply.

“What?”

“Your father would want you to die a martyr,” Snape said distastefully, “He was the epitome of Gryffindor house, but your mother was not and nor are you.”

Harry frowned, “You know that I was a hat stall?”

“No,” Snape confessed, “But I see many Slytherin traits in you, and now, I wonder if perhaps that is the part of the Dark Lord inside you. All the same, Lily would not want you to run blindly into the fire. She would want you to make a decision and face the future with the facts; she was highly logical and far more suited to Ravenclaw house in many respects.”

Harry stared at the potions professor. All of a sudden, he saw the older man in a whole new light.

“She would want you to make your own decision,” Snape continued, “She would not want a chess master to make it for you. Our Headmaster has made enough decisions for you already.”

Harry sank onto the moth-eaten mattress and sighed heavily.

“Is that everything?” he asked.

Snape eyed him, warily.

“Unfortunately not.”

Harry rose angrily, “What else has he kept from me?”

“There was a reason that Hagrid accompanied you to Diagon Alley when you first received your Hogwarts letter,” Snape informed him, “Ordinarily a muggle-born or a witch or wizard who has been raised by muggles is accompanied by a Head of House. This is because of the questions such young witches and wizards have, questions I doubt that oaf could answer.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“Minerva certainly offered, but Dumbledore assured her that Hagrid was up to the task. This was because he knew that Minerva, as loyal as she is, would not spy on an eleven-year-old boy for him,” Snape said distastefully.

“She was already too invested in your welfare, and she had been from the moment Dumbledore left you with Lily’s repulsive sister.”

“She didn’t want him to?” Harry asked in surprise.

Snape shook his head.

“She observed them and told Dumbledore that leaving you with them was a bad idea, but he convinced her that it would be better for you to grow up away from the spotlight.”

Harry scoffed angrily. If Snape noticed, he did not comment on it. Instead, he said, “Dumbledore knew that Hagrid would report back to him, and he did. When Hagrid told him that you had been conversing with Draco Malfoy, he made sure that you would befriend Ron Weasley on the train to Hogwarts.”

“What?” Harry barked.

Snape bowed his head.

“He asked Molly Weasley to point out the platform loudly, and he paid her to convince her son to befriend you, to take you in and help influence you towards his cause.”

Harry looked at him in disbelief.

“So Ron didn’t sit in that compartment by chance…he became my friend because his _mother_ told him to?”

“Indeed. Dumbledore felt that his plans for you would be dashed if you were sorted into Slytherin house, so he made sure that you had Gryffindor influences from the moment you entered the wizarding world.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He was so angry that he was physically shaking; he had felt angry before but never like this.

“I have also noticed stocks of the supplies that are required to make Amortentia going missing,” Snape informed Harry.

“And I do not think it is a coincidence that Dumbledore asked Slughorn to include it in the N.E.W.T curriculum this year when we should not teach it until seventh year. Your sudden infatuation with Miss. Weasley took me by surprise, but when I noticed the missing supplies, I quickly linked the dots.”

“No,” Harry said quietly.

“I very much doubt that the Weasley girl has the ability to brew the potion, however,” Snape added, “I suspect Miss. Granger has helped her, and to prove my point, take this.”

Harry frowned as Snape pulled a vial of clear liquid from his robes.

“What is it?” Harry asked before he reached for the vial.

“A simple flushing potion,” Snape replied, “It will flush any potions from your system and tell you if your feelings for the Weasley girl are genuine or not.”

Harry took the vial warily.

“How do I know it’s not poison?”

“Why would I show you the truth only to kill you?” Snape asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

“Because you’re a slimy git?” Harry countered.

“Sir,” Snape corrected.

“No need to call me sir, Professor.”

Snape fixed Harry with a stern look.

“Take the potion, Potter, before I do switch it with a poison.”

“You carry poison on you?” Harry asked in alarm.

“I am a Death Eater who has been forced to spy for the light. I would be a fool if I did not carry poison on me.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that logic. Snape had a point anyway; he had shown Harry the truth against Dumbledore’s orders, so he failed to see why he would kill him now. If he were on Voldemort’s side, he would take Harry to his lord first. Everyone knew that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry himself after all.

So, with a sigh, Harry knocked back the foul potion. It tasted like pure alcohol, and it made his throat burn. He coughed and felt his stomach instantly churn unpleasantly; he had just registered that he was going to throw up when he began to retch.

Snape, rather unhelpfully, took a step back and let Harry spend five minutes throwing up the contents of his stomach until there was nothing left, not even any stomach acid.

“ _Scourgify_ ,” The professor muttered.

Harry rested his head against a pillar.

“You could have told me it was going to do that,” he moaned.

“What did you _think_ a flushing potion was going to do?” Snape asked dryly.

Fair point - Harry thought to himself.

“How do you feel about Ginevra Weasley?” Snape asked pointedly.

Harry frowned. Suddenly he didn’t care that she was dating Dean. She was Ron’s little sister, and she had been irritating them since that first summer he spent at the Burrow. Yes, she was exceptionally talented with nifty little spells, and she could stick up for herself, but she was one of the lads. She would play Quidditch with them and get covered in mud, she would bump elbows with him and tease him, but he felt the same way about her that he did about the rest of the Weasley’s. It wasn’t how he had felt about Cho…

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Harry snapped, “Is anything in my life real?”

Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

“I despise you; that _is_ real.”

“That’s great, thanks for that,” Harry retorted, “Dumbledore lied to me about everything! Hagrid betrayed me, Ron lied to me, Hermione lied to me, Ginny drugged me! Has Neville lied to me too?”

“Mr Longbottom is as ignorant to all of this as he always has been,” Snape drawled.

“Well, at least one of my friends isn’t a complete bastard then!” Harry fumed. He kicked the rotten old bed and turned to Snape.

“What do I do now? My whole life is a lie!”

“Perhaps you should tap into your inner Slytherin,” Snape said, his eyes not leaving Harry’s, “Take matters into your own hands and do not rely on anyone.”

Harry thought that sounded like a miserable life, never relying on anyone again. He didn’t want to end up bitter and alone like Snape, but clearly, he could not trust the majority of the people who claimed to love him, the people who he called his friends.

The only person who hadn’t lied to him was Neville.

_And Draco_ , a small voice at the back of his head reminded him. It had been what Snape said about how he hated him that triggered the thought. Draco hated him and had never hidden it. Like Snape, he had never hidden his true feelings for Harry and right now, that was the best he had. Draco understood what Harry was going through; he was going through his own nightmare right now.

“I need to go,” Harry said abruptly. He pulled the door open and paused. He could not bear to turn around and say this to the potions professor’s face, so he resorted to keeping his back turned, “And…thank you, sir. I don’t agree with all of your choices, but I can understand them.”

Snape said nothing, so Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak from the floor next to the doorway, and he took off as fast as his legs would carry him.

His mind reeled as he made his way into the tunnel that would take him back to Hogwarts. Snape was in love with his mother, and all of this time, he had been protecting Harry. He hadn’t been trying to kill him; he had been keeping him safe _because of his love for Lily._ Dumbledore, on the other hand, had kept him safe to kill him at the right moment. Every time that mans name popped into his head, Harry had to fight an urge to growl with unadulterated rage. He could feel his anger growing, and it was worse than it had been even after Sirius’s death.

As he walked across the grounds, he began to get angrier with every step that he took. All he could think about were the people he called friends and how they had all lied to him. They must have all been laughing behind his back this whole time. He had probably been right about that dreadful summer he had to spend with the Dursleys after Cedric died – he had thought they were all having a great time without him at Grimmauld Place and they must have been because clearly, they did not give a damn about Harry.

Harry looked up at the school, his anger growing. His entire life had been a lie. Dumbledore was playing a game, and he was a piece, not just any piece either but the key one – he was a pawn in Dumbledore’s great game, he was dispensable. So what if he died? As long as Voldemort died too then it didn’t matter, right?

Well, it mattered to him. Harry hadn’t spent six years fighting for his life just to let it end now. Dumbledore had put him through enough, and he wouldn’t let the old man put him through any more. Harry was going to survive, and he was going to channel his inner Slytherin just as Snape had suggested. He knew enough about the likes of Snape and Malfoy to know that to survive, you had to act like a Slytherin, and Slytherins learned how to adapt to the changing circumstances.

By the time Harry stepped into the entrance hall, he was so angry that there was no doubt in his mind that he would be capable of casting the killing curse the moment he looked into Albus Dumbledore’s deceitful eyes.

But he wasn’t going to do that just yet. There was something else he had to do first, so instead of climbing the grand staircase up to his common room, Harry went downwards, into the depths of the dungeons.

* * *

“Greengrass. Where’s Malfoy?”

The pretty girl who Harry had just made jump, spun around. Her long blonde hair flipped around as she did so, and her cynical, dark blue eyes narrowed.

“Why are you asking me, Potter?” asked Greengrass.

“Because unlike most of your housemates, I knew you wouldn’t tell me to fuck off on first sight,” Harry replied sarcastically.

“At first sight? No,” She agreed, “But after the first words have come out of your dumb mouth? Maybe.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Where is he? You must have some idea.”

“Even if I did, why would I tell you?” She quipped.

She was on the defence and Harry didn’t blame her. He had been lurking in the shadows outside the Slytherin common room when he called her name. As usual of late though, Draco wasn’t on the Marauders Map.

Greengrass did not take her eyes off of his. Those eyes surveyed him; it was as if they could sense the change in him as it was happening.

“Aren’t you on different sides?” Greengrass asked finally.

“At the moment,” Harry replied darkly, “And I’m not stupid, Greengrass. Your family are neutral; you don’t want to be on either side of this war so since you don’t have a stake in either side, just tell me where Malfoy is.”

She rolled her eyes, “If you hang out in the sixth-floor boys' bathroom, I’m sure you’ll come across him. It seems to be where he spends most of his evenings, crying his heart out.”

Harry felt a tug of sympathy, or maybe it was empathy, for Draco Malfoy upon hearing that but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he nodded.

“Thanks, Greengrass.”

It was only as he walked away that a thought struck him. Harry turned around and cocked his head at her.

“It’s almost 11 pm, you shouldn’t be out so late after curfew.”

Greengrass raised an eyebrow at him.

“Neither should you and nor should you be hanging around outside the Slytherin common room, but hey, we all have our mysteries, Potter.”

Harry smiled slightly and said no more on the subject. He left the dungeon corridor and put his invisibility cloak back on the moment he had slipped inside a secret passageway. He looked on the map as he walked, but after a scan of the sixth-floor, he still could not see Draco.

All the same, there was only one boy's bathroom on the sixth floor, so Harry made his way to it in the hope that Greengrass was right. Harry sat on a toilet seat in one of the cubicles with the map on his knee and eventually, Draco’s name appeared on the map.

It appeared on the seventh floor, just outside the Room of Requirement, but Harry had already known that Draco had been doing something in that area. He just had no idea what. With any luck, that would change tonight.

Harry stashed the map in his pocket and waited by the sinks. Draco ran into the bathroom, and Harry thought he was running from something because of the fear in his eyes. The blonde boy leant against a sink, and as Greengrass had suggested, he began to cry.

Harry didn’t have time for this, he needed Draco to give him information, and he needed it quickly.

Draco did not know what had hit him when an invisible force grabbed him and pinned him against the sinks. A hand appeared from nowhere and clamped itself over his mouth. He began to panic, his eyes wide with fear and his breath hot against Harry’s hand.

Harry threw the cloak off and let go of Draco. The blonde boy immediately reached for his wand, but it was too late. Harry held it up and gave it a teasing wave.

“Looking for this, Malfoy?”

“Give me that back, Potter!” Draco spat.

“Keep your voice down, and I might think about it,” Harry retorted.

Draco lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Give me back my wand right now, or I will curse your half-blood arse into next week,” he seethed.

“Really? You won’t just cry at me?” Harry asked mockingly.

Draco’s jaw set, his eyes narrowed.

“I could kill you, Potter.”

“You could, but I doubt that you will,” Harry said, pocketing Draco’s wand and training his own on the blonde boy.

“The man you serve wants me alive, for starters.”

“I don’t serve anyone,” Draco hissed.

Harry grabbed Draco’s left arm and squeezed. Draco let out a guttural cry of pain, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

“No?”

Draco yanked his arm back and cradled it.

“What the hell has gotten into you, Potter?”

“Knowledge,” Harry replied, his eyes flashing darkly, “You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy. I’ve known it all year, even if nobody has believed me, and I also know what you’re doing this year.”

Draco paled and tried to take a step back, but Harry had already backed him into the sink.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Harry scoffed, “Kill you? No, I don’t want to kill you. I want in.”

Draco let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Then I think this is one big misunderstanding, Potter. If you had any idea what I was doing this year, you would kill me on sight.”

Harry didn’t let Draco’s attitude faze him. If anything, he revelled in being able to get one over on the arrogant little prat.

“You’re trying to kill Dumbledore,” Harry deadpanned, “And so far, all you have done is fuck it up and let innocent people get caught in the firing line. A cursed necklace? Poisoned mead? What is this, a game of fucking Cluedo?”

Draco looked utterly dumbfounded. So much so that he couldn’t even find words to respond to that with.

“So,” Harry continued, “I have a proposition for you - let me help.”

“What?” Draco spluttered.

Anger bubbled up in Harry as he thought about Dumbledore, as he thought about seeing his face again, about looking into those eyes and seeing them twinkling to hide the lies beneath.

“Dumbledore is a liar,” Harry spat vehemently, “All he has done is lie to me and betray me. My entire life has been a lie, engineered by _him,_ and I am sick of being used as a pawn in his game. He deserves to die because he caused all of this and he knows that, he _wants_ to die.”

Draco stared at Harry in disbelief.

“He knows you’re trying to kill him,” Harry told the Slytherin, “Something cursed him, he’s dying. He thinks you won’t be able to do it and let’s face it, he’s right. You’re a bit of a wet towel.”

Draco broke out of his daze.

“Oh but you could do it? Saint Potter, who can only use the disarming curse? You would kill Dumbledore?”

“Yes,” Harry said, his green eyes darkening a whole shade, “Better than that, I _want_ to. I won’t let Snape mercy-kill him. He deserves to die, knowing how much I hate him. He deserves to die, knowing that his grand plan has failed.”

Draco searched Harry’s eyes for any hint of deceit, but there was none.

“Trust me, I’m not that good a liar,” Harry promised.

Draco sighed, “There’s more to it than that. The Dark Lord has me fixing a vanishing cabinet which has a sister in Borgin and Burke’s. It would allow the Death Eaters access into the school.”

Harry shook his head.

“You can’t let that happen. Dumbledore deserves to die, but most of the kids in this school are innocent.”

“If I don’t do it, he’ll kill me, Potter,” Draco said. But he wasn’t angry anymore, he just sounded terrified.

“Not if we bring him Albus Dumbledore’s body,” Harry said fiercely, “He would forgive anything else if we did that.”

“We?” Draco scoffed, “He will kill you the minute he sees you.”

“No, he won’t,” Harry said. He knew that Voldemort wouldn’t; he had learned enough about him this year to see that he would be intrigued. He would want to have a conversation with Harry before he blindly killed him. Or at least, Tom Riddle would have done. The man who existed now, with his Horcruxes and torn up soul? Well, Harry was taking a gamble on him but no more so than he would have been if he went along with Dumbledore’s grand plan.

“What makes you so sure?” Draco asked sceptically.

“I have something he wants, and I have something he wants to hear,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Which is?”

“None of your business,” Harry said sharply, “So, are we doing this or not?”

“Well…I mean… what do we do?”

“We kill Dumbledore,” Harry said simply.

“What…you mean right now?”

“Why wait?” Harry asked coldly, “He has no idea that I’ve found out about his betrayal. If you go into his office, he’ll know why you’re there, but he will never see it coming when I appear.”

Draco looked at Harry warily.

“You just found out about this, and you already have a plan?”

“I had plenty of time to think about it while I was waiting for you,” Harry said, his features shrouded in darkness, “Trust me, it will work.”

Harry knew Draco didn’t trust him, not as far as he could throw him. But the Slytherin boy also knew that, right now, Harry was his best chance. So he nodded and swallowed a lump that had risen in his throat.

“Fine. What’s your plan?”

*** TBC ***


	2. Lamb to the Slaughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry enacts his revenge and decides to take a different path from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson.  
> (If you haven’t heard it, it’s like it was written for Dark!Harry. Give it a listen!)

Harry stood atop the Astronomy Tower and tried to control his racing heart. All he could do was hope that his plan had worked – that Dumbledore would get the letter that Harry had given to Dobby, that he would take the bait.

Draco hid away, waiting to play his part. Harry thought the Slytherin boy might have thrown up on the way up here; he had gone from pale to green rather quickly.

Harry let out a sigh and looked out at the night sky. He was leaning against the edge of the tower, his eyes on the most visible constellation in the sky – Sirius. Had Dumbledore engineered his death too? Had Dumbledore planted that vision in his head? Harry frowned but shook his head – no that had definitely come from Voldemort.

“Harry, my boy. what brings you here on this fine spring evening?”

Harry swallowed and turned around.

“I know.”

Dumbledore took a step towards him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m one of them,” Harry said quietly, “That’s why you’ve been teaching me about Horcruxes this year, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore’s eyes flashed with something akin to panic, and by Godric, that was satisfying.

All the same, Harry kept up the act.

“I was thinking about his diary - about how it had a mind of its own. It could show me a vision, just like I have a mind-link with Voldemort. It’s why I can speak to snakes, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore sighed, his blue eyes looking at Harry with guilt that Harry didn’t believe was genuine.

“I am so sorry, Harry. This is not a burden that someone so young should have to bear.”

Harry was unsure what to say to that, but thankfully – Draco stepped in at that point.

Dumbledore felt the shift and turned around slowly.

“Good evening, Draco.”

Draco pointed his wand shakily at Dumbledore.

“Potter, if you know what’s good for you, run,” he spat.

Harry shook his head and stepped forward.

“No,” he said, stepping in front of Dumbledore.

“Harry, do not trouble yourself,” Dumbledore said. He held out a hand and gently pushed Harry away. Then he turned back to the blonde boy.

“Draco, you are no assassin.”

“How do you know what I am?” Draco asked angrily, “I’ve done things that would shock you!”

“Like cursing Katie Bell and poisoning a bottle of mead? Forgive me, but I cannot help feeling that these actions are so weak that your heart cannot really have been in them,” Dumbledore said in what Harry would once have found a soothing, calming tone but now – fuck – now it was just the most condescending thing Harry had ever heard.

“He trusts me,” Draco spat, “He chose me for this!”

Harry stayed silent as Draco pulled up his sleeve, showing Dumbledore his Dark Mark.

“Draco, long ago I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices,” Dumbledore said, and Harry thought he detected a real hint of remorse in his voice.

“Please, let me help you. You do not want to kill me.”

This was Harry’s moment. He caught Draco’s eye, and the blonde boy gave him a slight nod.

_“Expelliarmus!”_

Dumbledore’s wand flew out of his hand, into Harry’s. Before the old man had time to spin around in alarm, Draco had yelled, “ _Petrificus Totalus!”_

Dumbledore’s body fell to the ground, and Harry moved to stand over it, pocketing the old man’s wand as he did so.

“No, he doesn’t want to kill you, but _I_ do.”

The blue eyes that Harry had thought were kind for so long, darkened and widened.

“I never thought I would be thankful to Severus Snape, but do you know what? I am, because he told me the truth. He set me free and gave me the chance to kill the man who restricted my freedom for my entire life,” Harry seethed, “You betrayed me, and you lied to me, all so that I could die at the right moment so that I could go down as a martyr.”

Harry laughed humourlessly, “Well, the joke is on you, Dumbledore. You thought Snape’s affection for my mother would make him loyal to you, but it made him loyal to _me_. He knew my mother wouldn’t want me to walk to my death like a lamb to the slaughter. She would want me to make my own choices with all of the facts, so he gave me the facts and my first choice is killing you.”

Dumbledore’s wide eyes were full of horror.

“And once I’ve killed you, I am going to take your body to the Dark Lord,” Harry continued, his furious gaze on Dumbledore.

“And all of your plans will have been in vain. I want you to die knowing that. I want you to die, knowing that you failed.”

Harry raised his holly wand, the one that was paired with Voldemort’s – like everything else in his life, that also made sense now – he was a part of Voldemort, no wonder there were so many similarities.

Everyone had told him that casting the killing curse was difficult if you didn’t mean it, but by Merlin, did he mean it.

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_

The green light hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest, and Harry watched with satisfaction as the light drained from his eyes. There was something morbidly fascinating about seeing the moment the life went out of those eyes.

Harry looked up at Draco, whose wand hand was still shaking.

“It’s done, Draco, calm down.”

“What…what do we do now?” Draco whispered, “Do we tell Snape?”

“Why would we tell Snape?” Harry scoffed, “I know he’s your godfather and yes, he did tell me the truth about Dumbledore but do you really want him to get credit for this? Surely you want Voldemort to know that we did this.”

“You called him the Dark Lord earlier,” Draco said, frowning at Harry, “Why did you call him Voldemort there?”

“I called him the Dark Lord because I wanted Dumbledore to be certain about where my loyalties lie now,” Harry said darkly, “Because they are most certainly not with the light anymore.”

Draco swallowed, “Everything you said about Horcruxes, is that true?”

Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“You need to forget about all of that, do you hear me? Forget that you heard any of it or you are dead!”

Draco nodded quickly, “I will, I’m sorry. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it,” he promised.

Harry sighed irritably and looked down at Dumbledore.

“We need to get the body out of here. Come on; we’ll Accio some brooms out of the shed and fly down then we’ll get his body out of the grounds.”

Draco nodded, his face ashen and his hands still shaking even as he pocketed his wand.

* * *

The reality of it all hit Draco in the Shrieking Shack. Harry was pretty sure that the Slytherin had a panic attack as he stared down at the body of Albus Dumbledore.

“What have we done?” He asked breathily.

Harry gripped him by the arms and looked him in the eye.

“We have killed a monster.”

Draco breathed heavily and shook his head.

“No, the Dark Lord-”

Harry shook Draco, “Stop! That old fool was worse than Voldemort. Yes, Voldemort is a murderer, but he doesn’t lie and pretend to be something that he’s not. _Dumbledore_ fooled everyone, they all think he’s a hero, but he’s not. He was just a foolish old man who thought he could control everyone’s lives to his advantage, but he can’t, not anymore.”

Draco’s breathing was still erratic.

“We did the right thing,” Harry said firmly, “So calm down.”

Draco took a deep breath and nodded.

Harry looked disdainfully down at Dumbledore’s corpse and felt slightly disturbed by his lack of remorse. For one moment, he thought – this man was like a father to me – but then the thought was interrupted with darker ones, he was the reason Harry had gone into Gryffindor house where he had always felt like he didn’t truly belong. Had he been destined for Slytherin all along? If he had sat on that stool without any foreknowledge or prejudice, is that where he would have gone? Harry would never know, and that was on Dumbledore. It was because of Dumbledore that Molly, who he thought had loved him like a mother, had lied to him and had forced Ron to lie to him.

Draco’s voice cut through his thoughts. The blonde boy had pulled himself together, but he still looked incredibly pale.

“What now?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Harry asked, perhaps a little harshly, “You call your master.”

Draco scoffed, “He isn’t my master, Potter.”

Harry gave Draco a sceptical look.

“You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy. He’s your master so call him.”

“But…” Draco floundered, “He can’t apparate here because of the wards.”

“We’re in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry pointed out dryly, “We are outside the wards of Hogwarts now. If you call him, he can apparate here.”

“I…” Draco held his arm tightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Potter.”

Harry sighed and grabbed Draco’s arm.

“Potter, no!” Draco interjected, “Calling him here is a bad idea!”

Harry ignored Draco and yanked his sleeve up. Despite the Slytherin’s objections, Harry pressed his wand onto the dark mark that was burned into Draco’s skin. Draco hissed as it burned hot for a moment, then Harry withdrew his wand and let go of Draco’s arm.

Draco looked like he might throw up.

“Why are you so afraid of him?” Harry asked. He sat down on the window ledge and looked out into the night. How long would it take Voldemort to get here, he wondered? He would bring back-up, of course. Harry suspected that he would be able to tell that it had been Harry’s wand that pressed the mark—knowing that Voldemort would likely expect this to be a trap.

“Why aren’t you?” Draco countered.

“He’s just a man,” Harry replied. He turned to look at Draco, “A power-crazed, slightly insane one, yes. But just a man all the same.”

“He’s not a man,” Draco said quietly, “He’s a lunatic, and he is terrifying.”

Harry wondered what Draco must have been put through by Voldemort to form that opinion, but he didn’t ask. He and the blonde boy were barely acquainted, let alone friends.

They fell silent and waited for Voldemort to arrive. It seemed to take forever, Harry’s watch ticked on and on quietly, filling the empty room. Draco jumped at every creak of a floorboard, every crack of a twig outside, every whistle of the wind through the old house. Harry had to work hard to bite his tongue; it was incredibly tiresome.

There was a tell-tale crack, the first sign of apparition. Harry stood up, bolt upright, and Draco took a few steps back until he was virtually cowering in the corner. The crack became two, then three, then four.

With a whoosh, the room suddenly became fuller.

Voldemort stood at the front of the group; his snake-like features lit up by the moonlight. By his side was Bellatrix Lestrange and flanking them were Travers and Yaxley. Voldemort’s eyes immediately sought out the body on the floor, but the Death Eaters were far more interested in Harry’s presence.

“ _Expelliarmus!”_ Yaxley yelled.

The spell hit Harry, but nothing happened.

Harry kicked a spot on the floor where two wands lay, “I saved you the trouble.”

“Do you care to explain this, Harry?” Voldemort asked in a whisper.

“This?” Harry asked, “This is Albus Dumbledore, and he’s dead.”

Voldemort fixed his snake-like eyes on Harry and pointed his wand directly at his heart.

“I will not hesitate to kill you unless you speak to me with some respect.”

Harry leant against the windowsill.

“Okay. This is Albus Dumbledore, and he’s dead, _my lord._ ”

Bellatrix shrieked angrily, “How dare he disrespect you-”

“Bella, quiet,” Voldemort snapped, without taking his eyes off of Harry.

“Draco, what is the meaning of this? Were you caught on completion of your task?”

Harry scoffed before Draco could answer.

“Seriously? You think Draco killed him? He’s had six months, and all he managed to do was curse a necklace and deliver some poisoned mead to the wrong person. _I_ did this for you, not him.”

Travers laughed, “What sort of trick is this, my lord?”

Voldemort however, narrowed his eyes at Harry and raised a hand to silence Travers.

“Use Priori Incantatem on my wand if you want proof,” Harry said simply.

“Pick it up, Yaxley,” Voldemort said sharply, “The holly wand.”

Yaxley picked the wand up and held it out.

Voldemort took his eyes off of Harry for a brief moment to say, “ _Priori Incantatem.”_

A ghostly green image was projected from the wand, of a streak of green light hitting a petrified Dumbledore.

Voldemort looked at Draco.

“Is this true, Draco?”

Draco nodded, “Yes, my lord. I tried, but I couldn’t do it.”

Voldemort tutted and spun his wand in his fingertips.

“A Malfoy has failed me once again. I suppose I should not be surprised anymore; it has become so common as of late.”

“I’m sorry my lord,” Draco said, his eyes filling with tears.

“I will do anything to make it up to you-”

Voldemort sighed, “You said that the last time, Draco, and you should know, although I can be merciful I am not patient – _crucio_!”

Draco screamed in pain and was forced onto his knees. Voldemort kept his wand trained on the blonde boy but turned to look at Harry, his red eyes locked onto Harry’s green ones, and Harry made sure to keep them free of sympathy. Draco had, at the end of the day, brought this upon himself.

“What do you think, Harry?” Voldemort asked calmly, “Does Draco deserve another chance, or should I kill him where he stands for his family’s failures?”

Harry shrugged, “Yes, he has proven to be a bit of a wet towel this year, but unlike his father, he has time on his side. He can still be trained and moulded into the kind of soldier you need him to be. After all, _I_ have defied you for the past six years and have only just realised that I was wrong to do so.”

Voldemort surveyed Harry with interest – Harry had been right; he _was_ intrigued. Voldemort ended the cruciatus curse, and Draco slumped onto the floor, unconscious.

“And how do I know, Harry, that this is not a trap? That you mean to betray me?” Voldemort asked calmly.

“Well, because I’m terrible at Occlumency for one,” Harry replied, “You could just look into my head and see everything, but I think you already believe me anyway. All the same, I will cast a vow if you allow me to take my wand back briefly?”

Voldemort nodded at Yaxley and Travers. Both men trained their wands on Harry’s heart then Yaxley held Harry’s wand out to him.

Harry slowly took his wand from the Death Eater and waved it in a circular motion; he murmured an incantation then said, “I, Harry James Potter, vow not to harm Lord Voldemort during this meeting.”

As soon as he was finished, he dropped his wand again.

Bellatrix scoffed, “He’s lying, my lord, kill him!”

Voldemort sighed in a long-suffering way and ground out, “Bellatrix, _quiet_!” he lifted his hand, and Bellatrix’s mouth zipped shut.

Harry smirked, “You have got to teach me that spell.”

“First, tell me what caused this change of heart,” Voldemort commanded, “I asked you to join me in your first year and you very clearly stated that you would die before you did such a thing.”

Harry nodded, “That was a long time ago. I knew nothing then and now? Now I know everything. Dumbledore was a liar, and he betrayed me. He has controlled every decision that I ever made, and he wanted to control my death. I wasn’t too keen on that idea, funnily enough.”

“So now that you have done me this great service,” Voldemort said, he motioned to the body of Dumbledore, “Why do you assume that I have any use for you? Can you give me one reason why I should not just kill you where you stand?”

Harry fixed his eyes on Voldemort and focused on switching to parseltongue. He very much doubted that Voldemort wanted the Death Eaters to find out about his Horcruxes, after all.

_“Because I know what the prophecy means,”_ Harry hissed.

Yaxley’s eyebrows raised, and Travers’s eyes widened with fear. Bellatrix would have been furiously shouting about how Harry was an insult to Slytherin, a half-blood who could speak his language, if it weren't for her lack of ability right now.

Voldemort’s lips quirked up very slightly in amusement.

_“Well, you are full of surprises this evening, Harry. I had heard that you were able to speak the noble tongue, but it is rather pleasant to hear it for myself, even if your pronunciation is awful.”_

Harry raised an eyebrow, _“I have only spoken to the one Boa Constrictor and a few statues before. The Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets was far too hell-bent on killing me to have a friendly conversation first.”_

Voldemort surveyed Harry with interest. He looked at him the way that Hedwig looked at a small rat before she swallowed it whole, which was mildly disconcerting.

_“As interesting as this is, would you care to get to the point so that I can decide whether or not I ought to be killing you tonight?”_

_“Yes, the prophecy. Neither can live while the other survives. I_ _know you have always wondered why I can speak parseltongue, why our minds seem to be linked and why our wands do not want to fight each other.”_

Voldemort narrowed his snake-like eyes at Harry.

_“You sought to create your final Horcrux that night when you went to Godric’s Hollow to kill the Potters. When your spell rebounded, you thought that you had failed, but you didn’t.”_

Voldemort’s eyes widened ever so slightly in realisation.

“ _I am a Horcrux. A part of your soul lives inside of me, it’s why I can speak to snakes, and it’s why our wands act the way they do. We do not want to kill each other, Tom, because we share part of the same soul.”_

Voldemort took a step back and watched Harry for a long moment.

“What did he say, my lord?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Yaxley,” Voldemort said quietly.

“This is my peace offering,” Harry said, switching back to English as Voldemort had done. He motioned at Dumbledore.

“Albus Dumbledore, the only man you have ever feared according to local rumour – dead. Make of that what you will.”

“Your revelation was indeed interesting,” Voldemort said, his eyes scanning Harry’s, “Understand that I do not trust you. There are very few people that I trust, and I killed several of those people for betraying that honour.”

Harry simply nodded.

“But if you do mean what you say then I will welcome you into my ranks,” Voldemort said, “It would do wonders for the morale of my men, and our cause. Albus Dumbledore dead, by the hand of his poster boy,” Voldemort smirked at the very thought.

Harry realised that throughout this meeting, his scar hadn’t hurt once, and that was incredibly rare when he was in the company of Lord Voldemort. Was it because they were finally on the same page? Two parts of the same soul seeing eye to eye rather than fighting each other?

“Will you fight for me, Harry?” Voldemort asked, cutting through Harry’s idle thoughts.

“Honestly? Right now, I don’t know if I will fight _for_ you, but I will fight _with_ you,” Harry said, and he meant that.

Voldemort was silent. He looked at Yaxley who seemed as intrigued as he was and at Travers who still seemed amazed by the fact Harry could speak parseltongue so well. Bellatrix was seething, but Voldemort took no heed in this. He simply murmured, “Now, now, Bellatrix – he will not become my favourite simply because he can speak the noble tongue, the boy has still tried to kill me several times.”

_“And destroyed one of your Horcruxes, accidentally I will admit. Sorry,”_ Harry said, switching to parseltongue.

Voldemort’s patience was wearing thin and Harry could tell that he was one sarcastic remark away from being stunned, so he spat out his next words quickly.

_“Dumbledore destroyed one too. Look at his hand.”_

Voldemort tore his eyes away from Harry’s and looked down, the ring was still on Dumbledore’s hand and when Voldemort saw it there, fury coursed through him. He let out a guttural yell of rage and Harry cried out in pain, clutching his scar and falling back against the windowsill.

The Dark Lord’s rage overwhelmed him, and before anyone had a chance to stun him, Harry passed out.

* * *

When Harry woke up, he was relieved to discover that his head no longer ached. He was vaguely aware that he was in a bed, and a very comfy one at that, but it took him a few minutes to open his eyes and take in his surroundings.

At first, all he could make out was a blurry, dimly lit room. He groped around for his glasses and breathed a sigh of relief when he found them on a bedside table. Harry put them on and pushed himself up so that he could get a good look at his surroundings.

He was in a double four-poster bed in a small bedroom. It was sparse; there were few pieces of furniture bar the bed, a desk, a comfortable looking armchair and a small bookcase. There was a fireplace too, but it wasn’t burning at the moment.

Harry got to his feet and frowned, someone had taken his clothes off – or transfigured them – he reminded himself. The muggle clothes that he had been wearing, jeans and an old t-shirt, had been replaced with silken deep green pyjamas. The curtains around the four-poster bed were also green, so Harry guessed that wherever they were, it had to have Slytherin connections.

He pushed back the curtain on the small window. It was a tiny square window, and it didn’t open, probably just in case Harry had any ideas about escaping – not that he would, he was at least three floors up in an old English country house.

The grounds were laid out before him, and they were beautiful. Harry could spot a full-sized Quidditch pitch and a rose garden from his tiny window. He looked down at the hedgerows where peacocks pranced around proudly.

“Malfoy Manor,” murmured Harry.

He turned away from the window and tried the door opposite it; he wasn’t surprised when he realised it was locked. There was another door, and this one opened – it led to a small ensuite bathroom with a claw-footed bath, a toilet and a sink.

Harry breathed in deeply and left the bathroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands – he had really done it, he had killed Dumbledore. It hadn’t all been a dream, or a nightmare – Harry felt sick, but he pushed the feeling down and swallowed hard.

_He deserved it_ , a vicious little voice in the back of Harry’s head said. It wasn’t his inner Hermione; she was judgemental but never vindictive. No, the way that voice had spat those words made him wonder if it was the part of Voldemort inside of him. Was it finally manifesting itself properly now that he had accepted it? The thought half scared and half excited Harry.

All the same, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what was happening at Hogwarts now. Did they think that he, Draco and Dumbledore were missing? Harry had told Neville to go to Dumbledore if he didn’t come back, and he hadn’t. Would Neville have gone to the empty office and gotten no reply because Dumbledore was on the Astronomy Tower? These thoughts brought Harry around to the subject of Dumbledore’s body. He wondered what Voldemort would do with it - nothing pleasant that was for sure. Would his head appear on a spike above the gates of Hogwarts?

Would Ron and Hermione be worried? Or would they be grateful that he was gone? Glad to be free of the burden of having to fake their friendship with him? And Ginny, Harry shook his head angrily, Ginny had stooped lower than he had thought possible.

Harry pushed himself to his feet and noticed a folded up piece of parchment sitting atop the desk. He picked it up with a frown and read the familiar, spidery writing. It took him a moment to work out why it was familiar, but then he remembered the writing in Tom Riddle’s diary – Voldemort had written this.

_“When you awake, call for a house-elf named Posey. She will care for you while you are here.”_

Harry found it odd that the Dark Lord had arranged for a house-elf to care for him, but he supposed it would be counter-productive to lure him over to the dark side then let him starve to death. Harry nearly scoffed at his own thoughts, Voldemort hadn’t lured him over at all. Harry had practically knelt at his feet and sworn his loyalty to the man who had killed his parents. He allowed himself to wonder for one brief moment what his parents would think of his recent choices, what Sirius would think and Remus – god, what would Remus say when he heard of Harry’s betrayal?

The thought was too painful, so he shoved it down, electing to deal with it another day. It was done now; he had killed Dumbledore; there was no going back.

Harry sighed and clicked his fingers.

“Posey!” he called loudly and clearly.

Seconds later, a crack sounded, and a young, female elf appeared before him. She bowed very low.

“Good morning mister Potter. Posey is here to serve you.”

Harry smiled weakly, “Uh, thank you, Posey.”

“Mister Potter must be eating food, yes?” Posey said.

“Nothing too rich if you don’t mind, Posey,” Harry said politely, “I still don’t feel that great.”

“Of course mister Potter,” Posey said, being careful not to look Harry in the eye.

“Lady Malfoy will be wanting to check on you soon.”

Posey bowed low once more then disappeared with a crack. Lady Malfoy? So he had been right then, he was in Malfoy Manor. For a moment Harry wondered why the elf had said that but then he realised that it was probably because he was still in his pyjama’s. Harry looked around and frowned, there was no dresser in the room, so how was he supposed to get dressed? It was then that he saw another door, narrower than the one that led into the bathroom.

Harry gave the handle a careful tug, and it opened into a small dressing room. He looked around in amazement; there were robes of all colours hanging inside, each one with a matching hat and vest. There were drawers of trousers, cashmere jumpers and silken pyjamas and there was a whole shelf full of shoes and slippers. _No wonder Draco Malfoy had been such a pretentious little shit -_ Harry thought to himself.

A click sounded behind him, and Harry jumped. He spun around and watched warily as the door opened, he reached for his wand, but it was gone – _of course, it was_.

Narcissa Malfoy stepped inside with a small leather bag. She gave Harry a small smile.

“There is no need to get dressed just yet.”

Harry shut the dressing room door.

“Uh, why?”

“Our lord has asked that I take care of you,” Narcissa explained. She opened the leather bag, and Harry realised that it was a miniature potions kit, the sort carried by Healers.

“Oh,” Harry frowned, “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. The passing out thing is normal, it’s my scar, it’s cursed, I pass out all of the time.”

“The Dark Lord did inform me that there was nothing we could do about that,” Narcissa said. She drew her wand from behind her ear and looked at the scar in question.

“Does it always look so angry and red?”

Harry rubbed the scar absentmindedly; it still stung a little. He hissed and shook his head.

“No, just when something has made it flare up.”

“I see,” Narcissa mused, “Well, the Dark Lord has ordered a full check-up, so I will need you to take off your pyjamas.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed, “What? But…why?”

“To ensure that you do not carry any lethal curses that you could pass on, for a start,” Narcissa said, “And of course, Corban has already removed the Trace from you.”

“The Trace?” Harry asked.

Narcissa looked up in alarm.

“Yes. You do not know of it?”

Harry shook his head.

“The Trace is placed on all magical children when they are sorted,” Narcissa said, her light blue eyes monitoring Harry with interest as she spoke.

“The Ministry claim that it is so they can detect under-age magic, but the truth is far more sinister. Unspeakables can use the trace to track people, you see?”

Harry frowned, “Corban? Yaxley?”

“Yes, he was one of the men who brought you here last night,” Narcissa said, “He works for the DMLE, which was why he was able to remove the Trace.”

“Right,” Harry said with a nod. He felt incredibly uncomfortable as he unbuttoned his pyjama top; this was Draco’s mother, after all.

“There is no need to feel self-conscious,” Narcissa said calmly, “I have seen many things in my service for the Dark Lord.”

Harry said nothing and slipped his pyjama trousers off – thank Merlin he still had underwear on.

Narcissa cast her eyes over him, “You are very short.”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry agreed.

“Yet both of your parents were quite tall,” Narcissa said with a frown, “That is unusual.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he remained silent. Narcissa cast a spell on him, he didn’t know what it did, but it must have told her something because she tutted and shook her head. The blonde-haired woman cast another spell, and this time, Harry did notice its effect. Marks glowed all over his body; there was barely a spot that didn’t have a strange bronze shine to it.

Narcissa looked horrified.

“What is it?” Harry asked nervously.

Narcissa looked him in the eye, and Harry was surprised to see that she seemed genuinely sympathetic.

“This spell shows all past injuries, whether they have healed or not. I have never seen someone so young with so many injuries.”

Harry looked down and frowned. He hadn’t realised how much damage there was either – it had all happened over such a long time.

“Who did this to you?” Narcissa asked softly.

“Uh,” Harry floundered for a moment. Her sympathy had genuinely taken him by surprise; he had always thought that Draco’s mother looked stuck-up and cold.

“Muggles, mostly, I suppose. My Uncle…he uh, he could be violent, and my cousin bullied me.”

Narcissa touched his wrist gently.

“This has been broken three times.”

Harry nodded, “Quidditch one time, I think the other two times were Dudley.”

“Dudley?”

“My cousin,” Harry said.

Narcissa’s frown deepened. She took Harry’s right hand gently in hers.

“ _I must not tell lies_?”

Harry breathed in sharply, “Umbridge,” he said darkly.

“The Professor?” Narcissa questioned.

“She gave me lines in fifth year. She said I was lying about Vol – about the Dark Lord coming back,” Harry said, the anger he had felt at Dumbledore bubbling beneath the surface once more.

“With a black quill?” Narcissa hissed.

Harry was surprised by the show of emotion. Had she truly not known about Umbridge’s cruelty? Draco had admired the evil woman; Harry thought he would have spoken to his mother about her. All the same, Harry nodded.

Narcissa sighed and ran her finger down a long, thin scar on Harry’s left forearm.

“Is this from the night our lord returned?”

Harry just nodded.

“Never mind, it will be covered when you are marked,” Narcissa remarked offhandedly.

Harry felt a surge of fear at that comment, but he said nothing.

“Did the Muggles starve you?” Narcissa asked calmly.

Harry frowned, he hadn’t really thought about it that much before. He tried to forget everything the Dursley’s had done to him if he was honest.

“I suppose so,” said Harry, “I was allowed the scraps once I had finished cooking. Unless I had done something freakish, then they banished me to my cupboard and my Uncle would ban meals for a few days.”

Narcissa’s horrified expression returned, “Your cupboard?”

“I had a mattress in the cupboard under the stairs,” Harry said, “That was where I slept for the first 11 years. After I went to Hogwarts, they had to give me a bedroom.”

“Did you go outside often?” Narcissa asked.

Harry shook his head, “Just when I went to Muggle school or when my aunt made me tend to her garden.”

“Malnourishment and a lack of vitamin D,” Narcissa murmured to herself, “Well, that explains the lack of growth.”

“Lack of growth?” Harry asked.

Narcissa rummaged around in her kit.

“The Dark Lord obviously suspected as much because this is not a common potion, but there is a starter bottle in here. You will have to take this every day for the next two weeks; it will kickstart your development and help you get to the height you should have done had you not been malnourished.”

Harry frowned at the glass bottle.

“Then there is the matter of your eyesight,” Narcissa said, “We can fix that today if you desire?”

“My eyesight?” Harry asked quickly, “You can fix that?”

“Of course we can,” Narcissa replied, “Have you not noticed that very few young Purebloods wear glasses?”

Harry thought about that – she was right, he could only think of one other person his age who wore glasses, and she was a muggle-born. Then there was Percy, a blood traitor.

“What about my Father?” Harry asked, “He was a pureblood.”

“Yes, and certain issues relating to the eyes cannot be fixed,” said Narcissa, “But you do not have any problems. Your poor eyesight relates to your malnourishment as a child, and it can be fixed with relative ease if you want it to be so?”

Harry’s heart leapt – not having to wear glasses anymore? No more mending them, casting spells on them when he was flying? That sounded like a dream.

“Yes,” Harry said eagerly, “I mean, yes please, Lady Malfoy.”

Narcissa smiled, “I know the elves call me that but you really ought to call me Narcissa. If you are to be joining our ranks as the Dark Lord says then you and I will get acquainted very quickly. I am our resident Healer, and from what I have seen today, I suspect you to be rather accident-prone.”

Harry smiled sheepishly, “That is true,” he admitted.

Narcissa took a purple potion from the bag and poured it into a dropper.

“This is the potion that will fix your eyesight, but I must warn you, it will hurt very much for the first few hours, so I suggest you listen to something to distract from the pain. The potion blinds you for up to one week, do not be alarmed; it is part of the healing process.”

Harry nodded nervously.

Narcissa said that he ought to lie down, so Harry took her advice. She dropped the potion into his eyes, and it did hurt, immensely, as she had said. It felt like acid was eating away at his eyeballs, and although he tried to blink away the painful liquid, he could not. Narcissa gave his hand a comforting squeeze and put some soothing music on for him. Harry had never heard it before, but as it filled the room, the pain began to ease, and images danced at the forefront of his head instead.

The welcome distraction made him sigh with relief, and by the time Narcissa had left, and Posey had returned with some toast and butter for him, the pain was manageable.

*** TBC ***


	3. Do You Wanna Cross That Line?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets acquainted with the four walls that surround him in Malfoy Manor, and gradually it all becomes clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Dangerous Night by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Harry had no idea about the passing of time. Being blind was incredibly disconcerting, he was aware of Posey bringing in food for him, and he did his best to eat it, but beyond that, he was useless. Posey helped him bathe and dress, at first, that mortified him, but he quickly realised that he had no choice but to accept her help, at least until the blindness was over.

Narcissa came in to remind him to take his potion, which, at the very least, helped him understand how many days had passed. It was on the 4th day that he finally got some company.

The door opened, and Harry jumped.

“Narcissa?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” A familiar voice said, “It’s Draco…Malfoy.”

Harry snorted, “How many other Draco’s do you think I know?”

There was a soft chuckle, and Harry could tell that Draco was smiling. Being blind helped him get in touch with his other senses which was interesting for a time, but he still wanted his sight back.

“Ah, yes, I forgot for a moment that you are an uncultured half-blood,” Draco said, but Harry could tell that it was in jest.

“For a few seconds there I forgot that you were a privileged git,” Harry shot back.

Draco scoffed, “If you plan on insulting me, I can leave you blind and bored for another four days?”

“No,” Harry said quickly, “I would really like the company.”

The door clicked shut, and Draco strode across the room. Harry was sitting up in his bed, and from his motions, he guessed that Draco had sat down in the armchair by the fire.

“Mother thought as much,” Draco admitted.

“She’s very nice, your mother,” Harry said.

“Yes, she is very caring,” Draco agreed, “It’s what makes her such a good Healer. She was outraged about your treatment by those muggles.”

“Was she?” Harry asked noncommittedly.

Draco hummed, “Yes. Mother and I were discussing it just now. How on earth you ever sympathised with a muggle-lover like Dumbledore when you were subjected to such things by muggles is a miracle.”

Harry would have gotten angry about that once upon a time, but now the comment just got him thinking. He was silent for a long moment.

“I didn’t know any better, I suppose.”

“Clearly,” said Draco.

Harry sighed, “Do you know what’s happening at Hogwarts? I’ve only seen your mother over the last few days, and she’s very vague.”

“The Dark Lord doesn’t trust you yet,” Draco admitted, “That’s why he has you imprisoned in this room. We aren’t supposed to tell you anything too sensitive, so before you ask, no, I don’t know what will become of your friends.”

Harry scoffed, “Friends? You mean, Ron and Hermione?”

“Who else?” Draco drawled.

“You think I care what happens to them?” Harry asked darkly.

“Don’t you?”

Harry was unable to see Draco, but he could tell that the blonde boy was raising a curious eyebrow at him.

“Ron became my friend because his mother told him to,” Harry said irritably.

“Dumbledore made sure Molly shouted about where platform 9 ¾ was because I didn’t know how to find it. He also told Molly that her son should make an effort to find me on the train and befriend me.”

“Why did he want you and the Weasel to be friends?” Draco asked distastefully.

“Because Hagrid told him that you and I had talked in Madam Malkins,” Harry replied honestly.

“He was terrified that the hat would sort me into Slytherin because that would have dashed his plans to use me as a weapon against the Dark Lord.”

Draco was silent, and Harry guessed that he was frowning.

“I was a hat stall, Draco,” Harry admitted.

“The hat nearly put me into Slytherin; it really wanted to actually. The reason it didn’t was because I asked it not to, _because_ of what Ron had said about every witch or wizard in Slytherin going bad.”

“Fuck me,” Draco breathed.

“The old bastard did engineer your entire life, didn’t he? No wonder you wanted to kill him.”

“I’m sorry you got tortured because of that,” Harry admitted.

“Don’t be sorry about that,” Draco muttered, “If you hadn’t killed him, the Dark Lord probably would have killed me for failing. At least this way, I failed but got to live; it was why I went along with your crazy plan.”

“Not because you trusted me?”

Draco scoffed, “Trust you? Potter, you were my mortal enemy five minutes ago.”

Harry laughed lowly, “You were never my mortal enemy, Draco – just my schoolboy rival. I always regarded Voldemort as my mortal enemy, and now he’s my…”

“Master,” Draco finished.

“Not yet,” Harry said, “Not unless I swear my loyalty to him.”

“Which you will have to do,” Draco pointed out.

“He isn’t going to be happy with you fighting alongside him; you could betray him at any moment. He will want to mark you, that way he will be able to track you and pull you back to his side when he needs you. I think you know that, deep down.”

The nauseous feeling in his gut told Harry that Draco was right.

“Maybe,” he said evasively.

Draco sighed and kicked something. Harry guessed it was probably the fire. If it was beginning to go out, then it must be late evening by now.

“What about Granger? What did she do to warrant a death sentence?” Draco asked. The words seemed cynical, but Draco delivered them perfectly calmly.

“She brewed Amortentia for Ginny,” Harry muttered, “She helped her dose me with love potion this past year.”

“That explains your sudden infatuation with the Weaslette,” Draco mused, “I did find it strange that you were attracted to her all of a sudden, she didn’t seem your type.”

Harry snorted, “I don’t have a type, Malfoy. I’ve been too busy trying not to die for the past six years to date, unlike you.”

“Unlike me?” Draco chuckled, “Who do you think I’ve been dating, Potter?”

“Pansy, obviously,” Harry replied, “But with how little Crabbe and Goyle left you alone, I did start to wonder.”

Draco laughed properly at that and Harry was taken aback. He had heard Draco chuckle and laugh mockingly, but never genuinely.

“Pansy?” asked Draco, “Sweet Salazar, no. Pansy is infatuated, with every other male Slytherin who doesn’t look repulsive but I would never stoop so low. She reminds me of my aunt for starters.”

Harry frowned as he tried to work out who Draco was referring to.

“Bellatrix?”

“Yes, her infatuation with our lord is sickening to behold,” Draco murmured irritably.

Harry made a face, “Oh my god; she’s…she and him?”

“You didn’t know that?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“Merlin, you _aren’t_ very observant, are you?”

_No,_ Harry thought to himself. That much was becoming apparent; he felt like he didn’t know anything which was incredibly embarrassing now that purebloods surrounded him.

“Well that will all change when the Dark Lord begins your lessons,” Draco said calmly as he threw some more kindling into the fire.

“He plans to come and talk with you once all of your restorative potions are done with.”

“I’m going to stay locked up in here for two weeks?” Harry complained.

“Give or take,” Draco answered, “Until the full moon at least.”

“Why the full moon?”

“Merlin, you know nothing,” Draco said in disbelief.

“Because the full moon is when our magic is at its most powerful, it’s when the Dark Lord initiates recruits.”

_Recruits, Death Eaters_ – Harry swallowed down the sick feeling that rose when he heard those words.

“That’s when he’ll mark me?”

“Yes,” replied Draco, “And from that point, you should be at full health. He plans to have Severus teach you Occlumency, and he will grant you library privileges so you can stop asking stupid questions like an uncultured half-blood.”

Harry would have rolled his eyes if he could have done.

“Fair enough. Should you be telling me all of this? I don’t want you to get tortured again.”

“If I were going to get tortured for telling you this, trust me, I wouldn’t be doing it,” Draco said matter of factly, “There are certain things I can’t tell you, but the Dark Lords plans for you are not among them.”

“You said you couldn’t tell me about Ron and Hermione, but what about Dumbledore? What has the Dark Lord done with his body?” Harry asked.

“Some Death Eaters paraded it through Diagon Alley,” Draco said, his tone was difficult to read, but Harry thought that he sounded quite horrified.

“Then they hung his body on the gates of Hogwarts for the teachers to discover. Everyone thinks you’re being held captive by the Dark Lord, which I suppose in a sense, you are.”

“Just not against my will,” Harry agreed, “Thanks for reminding me about that. What do they think about you?”

“Oh, they know that I’m a Death Eater now,” Draco said. He didn’t sound upset about it, just resigned.

“I’m a fugitive, for the moment.”

“For the moment? What do you mean by that?”

“That is one of those things I can’t tell you,” Draco said sharply.

“Anyway, I didn’t come here to gossip. I wondered if you wanted to play Wizards Chess?”

“How can I do that when I’m blind?” Harry asked.

Draco sighed, “Honestly, Potter – it’s not that difficult. Just use your hands to feel where your pieces are on the board, then direct them.”

That sounded simple, but as Harry soon found out – it wasn’t. Every time Harry reached to feel his pieces, he knocked one over, and Draco got more exasperated as the game went on. But by the time Narcissa came in to check on Harry, the boys had found a way to make it work.

The door clicked open just as Draco was guiding Harry’s hand to his king to show him where it was on the board.

“Is that where I think it is?”

“Unfortunately, it is,” Draco replied dryly.

Harry chuckled, “Checkmate!”

“I see you boys are enjoying yourselves,” Narcissa’s voice said, and she sounded pleased.

“I just beat him, blind,” Harry said triumphantly.

“Don’t let the victory get to your head too much, Potter,” Draco remarked, “I’ll beat you tomorrow.”

“You’ll come by again tomorrow?” Harry asked, hopefully.

“Yeah, someone has to keep you company, don’t they?” he said, “We don’t want the Dark Lords favourite new toy dying of boredom before he gets to play with it.”

Harry noticed the sudden shift in Draco’s attitude, and he expected that it was for his mother's benefit.

“Draco, love,” Narcissa said softly, “Please avoid the study. Severus and the Dark Lord are discussing sensitive matters in there.”

“I will, thank you, Mother,” Draco said.

Seconds later, the door clicked shut behind them, and Narcissa sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed. She cast a diagnostic charm which Harry was now becoming familiar with and hummed approvingly.

“Wonderful. Not long now until your eyesight is restored, Harry.”

Harry wondered why she seemed so pleased about that then he remembered – _so I can be marked on the full moon_ – he swallowed and told himself to stop panicking about it. What had he expected when he killed Albus Dumbledore and summoned Lord Voldemort, after all? He had known that it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but if he wanted revenge, if he wanted to make things right then he had no choice, he would have to let Voldemort brand him.

* * *

The days began to pass faster now that Draco had begun to visit him. Their nightly game of Wizards Chess gave Harry something to look forward to, even if his first victory had been beginners luck. Draco had won every game since, but Harry didn’t care – it was just nice to have someone to talk to, someone who seemed genuine. He had never expected his first real friend to be Draco Malfoy, but he supposed when he thought about it the idea made a lot of sense.

Harry voiced this opinion to Draco on the 6th night of his ‘captivity’.

“Do you think, if it hadn’t been for Dumbledore, we would have been friends?”

Draco hummed at that, “Well, my father wanted us to be friends. He said it would be good to have Harry Potter on our side before the Dark Lord rose, but I didn’t know who you were when I first met you.”

“I know,” Harry said with a sigh.

“You were the first wizard I met, and I thought you were a bit stuck-up, but I think that was just because of the way I was raised. You were so different from me, but lately, I’ve started to see that it’s just a different lifestyle.”

“Oh, its certainly a different lifestyle,” Draco agreed, “And that’s why people like me find Muggle-borns so barbaric. They have the gift of magic but with no idea of its origins. There are some, like Granger, who read about spells and the history of the wizarding world, but they don’t read about the origins of magic because they can’t. Those texts are old and sacred; they are only found in pureblood manors like this one.”

Harry reached out for Draco’s hand.

The Slytherin took it and guided him to the board. Harry felt around then instructed his knight to move.

“I don’t know what you mean either if I’m honest,” Harry said, “About the origins of magic.”

“That’s not your fault,” admitted Draco, “You would have done if your parents had raised you. I know your mother was a muggle-born, but your father was from a noble, pureblooded family, descended from a founder, so they say.”

“Gryffindor, I suppose,” said Harry, feeling a surge of guilt at that thought.

“Oh, probably,” agreed Draco, “If your parents hadn’t died, you would have grown up with the same festivals that I did. I doubt we would have attended the same gatherings mind you, different circles and all that.”

_Dark and light, you mean_ – Harry thought idly.

Draco continued, “Anyway. The point is that we have festivals all year round; they all have their meanings. You will be here for Midsummer so we can introduce you to it all then. It’s these festivals and the sacrifices that are made during them that help keep magic alive and these muggle-borns, they go around using that magic, but they don’t understand where it comes from. I swear, they think magic just grows on trees.”

Harry frowned, he had never thought about where magic came from. How had that thought never crossed his mind? He used magic every day but he, like the ignorant muggle-borns that Draco had just referred to, thought it grew on trees.

“And yes, when they marry into pureblood families, they learn,” Draco continued, he seemed to be on a little rant, and Harry felt stupid for knowing nothing about this, so he let him continue.

“But not all of them do that, you know?”

Harry’s frown deepened, “Well…then shouldn’t we persuade them to marry purebloods? I mean you’re classed as being a pureblood when all four of your grandparents are magical, right?”

“Yeah,” Draco said, “It’s your turn by the way.”

“I know,” Harry said distractedly.

“But surely if we persuade muggle-borns to marry into pureblood families then we can breed the muggle blood out?”

“That is one theory,” Draco agreed, “The Dark Lord would have to introduce marriage laws to make sure all muggle-borns got married into pureblood families. I think he has been considering it, but it will be controversial. Many of us feel that muggle-borns are beneath us, which wouldn’t bode for happy marriages.”

“True,” Harry agreed.

Draco took his hand and placed it over the board.

“Hurry up and make your move.”

Harry did so then said, “So that’s why purebloods hate muggle-borns? Because they feel like it’s uncultured for them to use magic without knowing where it comes from?”

“Pretty much,” Draco answered, “Some of the more extreme Death Eaters think they are abominations because they were born from Muggles, but really if you look at a Muggle-borns family tree, you will eventually find a squib. Magic can stay dormant in the blood for up to four generations.”

“You know a lot about this,” Harry mused.

Draco made his move and said, “I read a lot. Father is busy with the lord most days, and Mother has to keep the house. It’s why I enjoy our evenings so much, to be honest.”

Harry smiled slightly, “Yeah, Draco, I get it. I had a lonely childhood too.”

He reached out, and Draco took his hand to guide it to the board once more. He was reasonably sure that the blonde boy was smiling and once more, Harry marvelled at the change in dynamic between them in such a short space of time.

Before the murder of Albus Dumbledore, they had been enemies, and Harry had truly despised Draco. But now, bonded over the shared experience of killing that manipulative old fool, they had become firm friends. Draco was lonely and although he didn’t say so, scared of what was to come and Harry was a prisoner, terrified of what fate would become of him when Lord Voldemort eventually spoke to him again.

* * *

On the 7th day, Harry got his sight back. He woke up and opened his eyes, something he hadn’t been able to do for the entire week. Whatever potion Narcissa had used seemed to have stuck his eyes shut, but on this particular morning, they opened.

At first, everything was blurry, and Harry panicked. He hadn’t just gone through all of that for it not to work, had he? He rubbed his eyes and made a face when he saw the purple, sleepy dust that was on them. Harry got up and stumbled into the bathroom where he scrubbed his eyes then wiped them with a towel.

When he opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, he was amazed.

“Holy crap,” Harry whispered as he stared at his reflection. He had never seen himself so clearly, everything was so sharp, sharper than it had been even with his glasses on. His eyes seemed to be a deeper shade of green than he could remember, and he was also alarmed by the fact that he was taller.

Harry took a step back and looked down – _yep, a good couple of inches taller ­–_ he looked back to his reflection, he looked healthier than he had ever done in his life, he looked older but not in a bad way, in a healthy way.

He was so absorbed in this new image of himself that he didn’t even hear the door click open until Narcissa spoke.

“Your eyesight is back?”

Harry turned to look at her and smiled, “Yes. I cannot thank you enough, Narcissa…I have _never_ been able to see this clearly.”

Narcissa returned his smile, “Somebody should have offered to do this for you years ago, but I suspect that Dumbledore wanted to keep you as small and weak as possible.”

“Small,” Harry said, he shook his head.

“How have I gotten so much taller in the space of a week?”

“It means the restorative potions are working,” Narcissa said, casting a diagnostic charm over him.

“But we are not there yet. You have one more week of potions and after that, we shall re-assess your situation.”

Harry knew what that really meant, but he didn’t want to get Draco in trouble, so he nodded. Narcissa gave him his daily potion and offered with a smile, “One week is not so long in the scheme of things.”

“I know,” Harry said, _but I’ve been imprisoned like this before_ , he thought. He didn’t voice that opinion though, not to Narcissa. He liked her and trusted her well enough, but she didn’t need to hear his sob story about how the Dursley’s had imprisoned him, he saved those depressing chats for his evenings with Draco.

“Draco will not be joining you this evening,” Narcissa added, and Harry’s heart fell – for one frightening moment he thought that she had read his mind, but it had probably just been chance.

“Oh,” Harry said solemnly, “Is he busy?”

“The Dark Lord has called a meeting,” Narcissa said. As always, she was vague in her answers.

“He will come and speak with you soon, I expect.”

Harry wanted to ask why, but he knew that he wouldn’t get a straight answer, so he didn’t bother. Instead, he nodded and said, “Okay, thank you again, Narcissa.”

Narcissa touched his cheek gently and looked into his eyes.

“You are very welcome, Harry. Please make sure you give your eyes a bit of a rest for the next few days, though. Do not stay up all night reading.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised, _fat chance of that with me being **so** academic_, Harry thought. But Narcissa had a point; it wasn’t like there was much else to occupy him in this room. She had been gone for half an hour when Harry caved and picked up one of the leather-bound books on the shelf.

* * *

The following day, Harry received a new visitor, one that made him jump up in alarm. The only people who had been coming in and out were Narcissa and Draco unless you counted Posey the house-elf. So when Lord Voldemort strolled in and closed the door behind him with a wave of his hand, Harry felt a wave of fear roll over him.

“Good evening, Harry.”

Harry pushed his fear down and countered it with sarcasm, “Good evening. It’s nice to speak to you finally.”

Voldemort looked at Harry with vague amusement.

“I do have better things to do than babysit a little boy who recently decided to defect.”

Harry nodded, “Fair enough. What better things are those? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I do mind you asking,” Voldemort said calmly, “Which is why I elect not to answer that question.”

“Because you still don’t trust me,” Harry said with a nod, “Which is fair enough. There are still a lot of things about the Horcruxes that I haven’t told you, and I expect you want answers.”

“Indeed,” Voldemort agreed, “Beginning with, how did you find out about them?”

“Dumbledore told me, well, showed me,” Harry said with a shrug, “He spent this year teaching me all about you, your origins. He thought he was giving me everything I needed to defeat you, but that didn’t end very well for him. Did it?”

“Obviously not,” Voldemort said, surveying Harry through his scarlet eyes.

“How much did he show you?”

“Enough,” Harry replied, “I already knew that you and Tom Riddle were the same person, I found that out from your Horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets back in my second year. But Dumbledore told me what he suspected your other Horcruxes were. He thought that you had framed Hokey the house-elf for the murder of her mistress and had turned Slytherins locket and Hufflepuffs goblet into Horcruxes, he also figured you had turned an item of Ravenclaw’s into a Horcrux, but he didn’t say what. I doubt you would have used an item of Gryffindors because you hate that house with a vengeance. I do suspect that Nagini is a Horcrux though because I have a connection with her, I’ve had visions where I see things through her eyes.”

“Have you?” Voldemort asked, “Now, that is interesting. I suppose in a sense, you and Nagini do have a symbiotic relationship.”

“As you and I do,” Harry said.

Voldemort said nothing, but he did not take his eyes off of Harry’s either.

“Who else knows about this?”

“Ron and Hermione,” Harry replied, “I didn’t tell anyone else.”

“Not even Draco?” Voldemort asked, scanning his eyes for any hint of a lie.

“Nah, I just ambushed him in a bathroom and told him I was going to kill Dumbledore,” Harry shrugged, “The friendship came after.”

“Narcissa informed me that you find his company pleasing,” Voldemort remarked, “I am glad that you can find entertainment, even in your captivity.”

“Yeah, am I going to stay locked up in this room forever or are you going to put a chain around my neck and let me out at some point?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“Do not tempt me,” Voldemort said lowly.

“You may prove to be a good soldier, but you are arrogant and stubborn, two traits which some find noble and I find insufferable.”

Harry grimaced, “Sorry, my lord.”

At this, Voldemort’s lip quirked up.

“When you first addressed me as such in the Shrieking Shack, I, like my men, assumed that you were being clever.”

He took a step closer to Harry.

“You see, Severus had warned me that you have a certain disregard for authority figures.”

“That is true,” Harry agreed, “When someone hasn’t earned my respect, I won’t give it to them.”

“And _I_ have earned your respect?” Voldemort asked, surprise lacing his voice.

“I am your sworn enemy, am I not?”

“You were,” Harry agreed, “But then Dumbledore betrayed me, and suddenly, I began to see why you hated him so much. He manipulated you, he tried to change the course of your life too, but you were stronger than me, you didn’t let him.”

“I was not naïve,” Voldemort agreed, “We are not all as oblivious as you appear to be, Harry.”

Harry sighed.

“That comment hurts, I see.”

“Because it’s true,” Harry said irritably, “I don’t want to be oblivious anymore, I don’t want to be weak like you said I was back in the Ministry. I want to be strong, I want to fight, and I want to make everyone who lied to me pay.”

“Revenge is a dangerous motivator,” Voldemort said as he moved to the fireplace, “It will bind you to me at first, yes. I can train you. I can help you get revenge, but then what? What will you do when you find that you no longer need me?”

“I won’t undermine you if that’s what you mean,” Harry promised.

“I don’t care about power. I don’t want to take over the world or run the Ministry. I’ll help you do that, but I don’t want it for myself.”

“The problem is, Harry – you have spent your entire life fighting against me, and everything I have ever done has been to destroy you,” Voldemort said smoothly, “So why should I trust that you genuinely now want to work with me? Simply because Dumbledore betrayed you?”

Harry sighed, “Look, you don’t believe me, and I don’t know what more I can say to convince you. Just look into my head, you don’t even have to use legilimency to do it, we’re linked through the piece of your soul that lives in me. You could tap into my thoughts at any point. Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t done it already.”

“You have many interesting things to say, and I do revel in hearing you say them yourself rather than extracting the thoughts from your head,” Voldemort remarked, “I suspect you did not believe me when I said I was a merciful lord.”

“No, I didn’t,” admitted Harry, “But now I can see the truth in it. You have kept me alive and fed for the past week, and you have Narcissa giving me potions that make me feel stronger than I ever have, you even let her fix my eyesight. All of this,” he motioned around the room, “is more than I have ever had, more comfort than I have ever had in my life in this past week that you have called captivity. Draco talks to me, about pureblood rituals, about the things I would have learned had my father survived to tell me, and it intrigues me. I feel robbed of the life I should have had, Tom, and I know that you, better than anyone else, knows how that feels.”

Voldemort sighed and held his hand out towards Harry.

“Come.”

Harry got up and walked towards him, not sure if he was about to be tortured for stepping over the line.

“You have stepped over the line many times since our first meeting, and I have not yet tortured you,” Voldemort remarked.

“So you _can_ read my thoughts?” Harry asked.

“Of course I can,” replied Voldemort.

Harry frowned, unsure what Voldemort wanted to do with him. All the same, he came to a stop in front of the Dark Lord. Voldemort reached out to touch his face, and Harry stayed stock still, he did not flinch.

When Voldemort’s long, fingers pressed against his scar, Harry winced in pain. Then all of a sudden, he felt a wave of warmth wash over him.

Harry frowned. Could Voldemort control the Horcrux just by touching his scar?

_The pain is caused by the part of my soul trying to escape and rejoin its master. This is because it was an unintentional Horcrux. As such, I can soothe the pain by telling the Horcrux that it must remain where it is._

Harry sighed in relief, that was reason enough to join Voldemort. A world in which his scar didn’t regularly cause him debilitating pain had to be a good one. He brushed the thought aside and tried to clear his mind to help Voldemort rifle through his thoughts. Not that it was difficult, Harry knew that he was an open book.

“Yes, we will have to do something about that,” Voldemort said, his hand dropping to his side.

Harry frowned as a sudden cold rushed over him, making him shiver. The moment Voldemort had taken his fingers off of the scar, he missed the touch.

“Those are not your feelings,” Voldemort promised, “You are feeling my soul piece longing to be back in my body.”

“Oh,” Harry nodded, “That makes sense.”

Voldemort hummed softly and walked towards the door. When he reached it, the Dark Lord turned around and looked Harry in the eye.

“I can see that you do wish to be loyal to me. However, you have doubts, and that worries me. Doubts and fleeting thoughts of guilt, these are the things that have made better men, and women, than you betray me in the past.”

Harry swallowed.

“I will have Severus teach you Occlumency as a matter of urgency,” Voldemort said thoughtfully.

“You know many of my secrets, and I do not want them to become common knowledge. You must also learn to close off the most human parts of yourself, the pieces that threaten to betray me.”

Harry frowned, he didn’t know what Voldemort meant by that, but he nodded all the same.

Voldemort reached out and touched Harry’s scar once more, all of a sudden, a wave of calmness washed over him, and Harry sighed in relief.

“Calm yourself, Harry,” Voldemort said, his tone softer than Harry had ever heard it.

“I have big plans for the coming week.”

Harry assumed he meant the initiation, so he said, “I know you do.”

“Oh, you do not know the half of it,” Voldemort said with a smirk, “You may have noticed that our movement is weak at the moment. Many of my most reliable men are still imprisoned after the little stunt you pulled in the Department of Mysteries.”

Harry grimaced guiltily but said nothing.

“But not to mind,” Voldemort continued.

“I shall release them this week. It will be quite some initiation this full moon, welcoming the boy-who-lived into our ranks. You will tun the tide for us, Harry,” he looked into Harry’s eyes with utmost delight, “And I want all of my followers to witness that.”

“Won’t they want to kill me for putting them in Azkaban in the first place?” Harry asked pointedly.

“Oh, most likely,” Voldemort replied with a smirk, “But you are under my protection so they cannot harm you, however much they may want to. I do feel that in time, they will come to see what I can already see.”

“And what is that?” Harry asked, looking Voldemort dead in the eye.

“That you, my dear, are our greatest weapon,” Voldemort whispered.

Before Harry could ask him anything else or even get a grip on what those words meant, Voldemort swept out of the room silently, the door barely even clicking when it shut behind him.

*** TBC ***


	4. I've Found Peace in Your Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the full moon, comes the initiation and the moment Harry truly realises that there is no coming back from the darkness that he let in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Silence by Marshemello feat. Khalid.
> 
> The first 15-16 chapters all take place during the summer. I've just started to write Harry returning to Hogwarts when is when a lot more characters will be introduced properly but I'm editing my way through the earlier chapters at the same time to keep on top of the story so that (hopefully!) there won't be long waits for updates!

Voldemort followed through on his promise and sent Severus Snape to help Harry learn Occlumency, hopefully with more success than the last time. When the Potions Professor stepped into Harry’s room, he looked up at him a little nervously. It was the first time Harry had seen Snape since that fateful night.

Snape's words had changed everything, but Harry had no idea how the professor felt about what he had done with that knowledge.

Harry observed him, but Snape gave nothing away, he never had.

“Potter.”

“Professor,” Harry said respectfully.

Snape raised an eyebrow, “No sassy remark?”

“No, sir,” Harry responded.

“So joining the Dark Lord has taught you how to respect your superiors?” Snape asked, his eyes narrowing.

“It _has_ disciplined me,” Harry agreed, “But I respect those who have earned it. You told me the truth, you allowed me to make my own decision, and for that, I am grateful.”

“Whether you can live with that decision remains to be seen,” Snape said calmly.

“I can live with it,” Harry said fiercely. Although in all honesty, he didn’t know if he could, not forever anyway.

“Pushing down your guilt will not help,” Snape drawled, “That is why our lord asked me to come here. You must learn Occlumency, properly this time. Once you learn how to organise your mind, you will be able to lock away the part of you that threatens to betray the Dark Lord.”

“The guilt,” Harry realised.

“Guilt, remorse,” Snape agreed, “Whatever is left of your moral compass.”

“You think I made the wrong choice,” Harry realised.

“I think you acted rashly,” Snape corrected, “But then again, you are the son of James Potter.”

“Killing Dumbledore was rash,” Harry agreed, “I did that out of anger, that much is true. But everything else I have planned isn’t. It’s all part of my plan.”

“It’s also for revenge,” Snape reminded him, “When the time comes to kill an innocent muggle child, do you truly think you will feel nothing?”

Harry said nothing.

“You will feel everything,” Snape hissed, “You will feel anger, at yourself for the choices you have made that led you to that decision. You will feel guilt; you will feel sick with the horror of what you have done. The only way you will ever survive this is if you lock the doors on the parts of your brain that control those emotions. Trust me; it is the only way for people like us to do a job like this.”

“People like us?” Harry echoed.

“You and I are far more similar than either of us would care to admit, Potter,” Snape said, eyeing Harry with a mixture of interest and concern, “Whether I agree with your decisions or not, I am tasked with helping you deal with them. I do think that learning Occlumency will be easier this time; your mind already seems clearer.”

“Clearer than it has ever been,” Harry agreed, “And that is because Dumbledore is gone, thanks to you.”

Something flashed in Snape’s eyes, something he could not control, but it was gone before Harry could decipher its meaning. The stone, cold stare was back before Harry could blink.

“Shall we begin?”

* * *

“Today is the day.”

Harry jumped and turned around quickly.

“Sorry,” Draco said sheepishly, “Didn’t you hear me knock?”

Harry shook his head, “Too absorbed in my own thoughts, sorry.”

Draco shut the door to Harry’s room and leant against it.

“You look good.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, did I just hear that right?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Shut up. I just mean that you look like you have finally grown into yourself.”

Harry did know what Draco meant. The final week of taking the restorative potion had made all of the difference. Harry felt stronger and healthier than he had ever done, he had also gone through one hell of a growth spurt which had come with its own problems – gaining 5 inches of height in two weeks had led to some painful growing pains.

Once upon a time, Harry would have stood 4 inches shorter than Draco, he would have had to look up slightly when they were going face to face over something stupid at school. But now they were virtually the same height which was strange.

“I can look into your eyes while I glare at you now, I don’t have to glare over your head,” Draco teased.

Harry laughed weakly and looked outside at the house elves as they worked to prepare the garden for the full moon ritual.

“I can tell you’re nervous, and it _is_ scary,” Draco admitted as he pushed himself off the door and walked towards Harry.

“Everyone is watching, and you’re freaking out about messing up the vow.”

Harry snorted, “What is it, my wedding day?”

“Pretty much,” Draco muttered, “You’re swearing your loyalty to our lord for the rest of your life. How is that any different to taking a wife?”

Harry supposed that Draco had a point.

“The sacrifice,” Draco swallowed, “That’s hard too, but you learn to live with it.”

Harry said nothing as he watched the elves continue to build a large bonfire. He wasn’t sure what to say, he did confide in Draco, more than he had in any other person if he was honest. But there were some thoughts that he just couldn’t verbalise even if wanted to.

“Good evening, boys.”

Draco breathed in sharply, “My lord. I shall take my leave, my apologies.”

“There is no need to apologise, Draco,” Voldemort said with a slight smile, “You were merely advising our newest recruit on what is to come next. I am sure that Harry thanks you for your service.”

Harry nodded at the blonde boy.

“I do, thank you, Draco.”

Draco bowed his head and left the room in a hurry. Harry didn’t blame him; he knew how terrified of Voldemort he was.

“Yet you do not share that fear, Harry.”

“What happened to not reading my thoughts because you prefer to hear me articulate them myself?” Harry asked dryly.

Voldemort did not appreciate it. His lips pursed and he snarled, “I have put up with your insolence thus far, but if you continue to disrespect me in such a way I will not hesitate to show you why Draco fears me.”

Harry knew Voldemort well enough to know that he would follow through on that threat and since he wasn’t keen on being crucio-ed within an inch of his life less than 24 hours before he was due to take the Dark Mark, he took heed.

“Sorry, my lord,” Harry said sincerely, “Years of answering back and fighting my corner can’t be unwritten in two weeks, I suppose.”

“So it seems,” Voldemort said harshly. Harry could tell that his patience was wearing thin and he knew that was partially his fault, _scratch that, all his fault_.

“If you do not wish for me to read your thoughts, perhaps you could stop thinking so loudly?” Voldemort added.

Harry frowned, he hadn’t been aware that a person could think loudly.

“You are still doing it, Harry.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He made a conscious effort to clear his head as Snape had shown him then he looked Voldemort in the eye, “Better?”

Voldemort’s eyes softened slightly, likely because Harry’s thoughts weren’t so intrusive now.

“Yes. Now, I came here to discuss your initiation this evening. You are aware of what is expected of you?”

“Draco said something about a vow and a sacrifice,” Harry answered.

“The vow is usually a magical oath, but in your case, we will have to resort to something more permanent,” Voldemort remarked as he ran his fingers along his wand, thoughtfully. Harry realised that it wasn’t his wand at all but Dumbledore’s old wand.

If Voldemort heard this thought, he didn’t think it important enough to comment on. Instead, he said, “It will be an unbreakable vow. You are familiar with such magic?”

Harry nodded, “If I break it, I die. Isn’t that risky? If I die, then you lose a Horcrux.”

“And if I do not employ such insurance, I risk you running back to your friends and destroying all of my Horcruxes,” Voldemort pointed out, “I think the risk is worth taking, don’t you?”

“Well…when you put it that way,” Harry shrugged evasively. It did make sense, but it worried Harry, it proved that his life wasn’t as valuable to Voldemort as he thought it was.

“On the contrary, Harry,” Voldemort said quietly, “Your life is very valuable to me. I do not issue a group-wide protection vow for just anyone.”

Harry looked up in surprise. Voldemort hated him; he didn’t trust him. Why would he do such a thing?

“I do not trust you,” Voldemort agreed, “But I told you that when you first asked to join my employment, do you recall?”

Harry did remember. Voldemort had said that he didn’t trust anyone, and Harry knew that he didn’t feel fondly for others either, that he couldn’t love.

“Yes,” Harry said, pulling himself back into the moment.

“But that is not to say that I hate you,” Voldemort added, his eyes taking in Harry’s curious expression.

“And as you were once again thinking so loudly, I shall answer your messy thoughts. I do find myself getting fond of some of my followers. A father should not have favourites, but I do. I expect in time, if you serve me well, you shall become precious to me.”

Harry was entirely unsure how to take that, so he remained silent. Voldemort was a welcome change from Dumbledore – Dumbledore who had kept him at arm's length, who had lied about his intentions, who had faked affection and made Harry crave more. Voldemort was honest about his intentions and promised Harry fondness if he played his cards right and did what was asked of him.

Voldemort made a pleased sound, somewhere between a content sigh and a thoughtful hum.

“Your thoughts _are_ fascinating, Harry. But, for the sake of your privacy, I shall endeavour to ignore them when I can. Do project less, though.”

Harry nodded, “I’m working on it, my lord.”

Voldemort’s lips quirked into a small smile as they always did when Harry addressed him as such. He bowed his head.

“Have you given any thought into who you would like to sacrifice tonight?”

“I get to pick?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Of course you do. It would not be an appropriate sacrifice; otherwise, would it?” Voldemort said plainly, which made Harry feel stupid, as usual.

“You are not stupid,” Voldemort assured him, “Merely uneducated, and we can fix that.”

Harry’s thoughts were racing, which made it hard to process the backhanded compliment that the Dark Lord had just given him. Who did he want to sacrifice?

“Perhaps one of the muggles who abused you as a child?” Voldemort asked.

Harry looked up sharply, “Did you see that in my head?”

“I saw but flashes of your tragic childhood,” Voldemort said with no real sympathy, “Narcissa did inform me of your plight, though.”

“Right,” Harry said with a frown, “And I mean…yes, I do want to kill the Dursley’s for what they did to me. I feel like their abuse and their inability to love me started me out on this path, to be honest.”

Voldemort cocked his head at Harry.

“Is that so?”

Harry sighed and sank into the armchair by the fire, “Yes. How can a person learn how to love someone when no one has ever loved them? When all they know is hatred and resentment…that was my childhood.”

If Harry had been looking at Voldemort, he would have noticed the pain that filled his eyes for one very brief moment; the scarlet gleamed blue until Voldemort blinked it away.

“But I don’t want to sacrifice them,” Harry said as an idea began to form in his head, “They deserve a worse death.”

“Worse than their body being burned atop a pyre?” Voldemort asked with morbid fascination.

“I _am_ intrigued to hear what you have planned for them.”

“Karma,” Harry said, a wicked smirk forming on his face.

“But that can come later. I know who I want to sacrifice.”

Voldemort motioned with his hand.

“Yes?”

“I want to kill the person who murdered my parents,” Harry said vehemently.

Voldemort laughed under his breath.

“If it were not for the play on words, I would assume that you meant me, but that is not the meaning behind your words, is it?”

“No,” Harry said. He looked Voldemort in the eye, “You might have been the one who cast the spell, but you didn’t kill them, Peter Pettigrew did.”

Voldemort watched the fire in Harry’s eye burn.

“Your father had to die, unfortunately. He was an Auror, and he was far too fond of Dumbledore to see the truth. It pained me to kill the head of such a noble family as the Potters.”

Harry thought he saw genuine regret in Voldemort’s eyes, but it was difficult to understand what he was thinking at any point. The Dark Lord sighed.

“And I gave your mother several chances to step aside. It was you who had to die because it was you who the prophecy pertained to, not your parents.”

“Everyone assumes you want to kill all muggle-borns, but you would have spared my mother,” Harry realised.

“Of course, she was a talented witch despite her heritage,” Voldemort said. He moved to the window and looked out at the bonfire.

“I do not want to rid the world of muggle-borns, Harry. I simply want to separate them from the filth from whence they came.”

Harry frowned, “Segregation?”

“Precisely,” Voldemort answered, “Muggle-borns should be brought into our world and raised by a wizarding family. They should be raised with wizarding customs and taught how to appreciate magic, not just how to use it.”

It was as if a light switch went off in Harry’s head. He had never understood the purebloods before, but now, it made sense. Dumbledore painted them as murderers, and yes, they were. They killed when it was necessary, but Harry was sullied with that name too now – he was Albus Dumbledore’s murderer. They were far more than that though; they were not the new force trying to overthrow the old. They _were_ the old, and all they were trying to do was reclaim their country from the muggles and muggle-borns that had infected it. They weren’t the plague, they were the liberators and how had it taken him so long to see that?

Voldemort smiled, not just a quirk of the mouth, but a full, broad, slightly disturbing smile.

“Harry,” He said proudly, “You see it! You see the vision?”

Harry nodded, his eyes wide with realisation.

“I am most pleased,” Voldemort and Harry could feel his happiness seeping into him through his scar, a wave of warmth washed over his whole body.

“I shall retrieve Pettigrew and have him bound ahead of your initiation tonight. Posey will be with you shortly to help you prepare.”

Harry nodded, still too floored by his recent revelation to form any properly coherent thoughts.

* * *

Posey did come to prepare Harry for the initiation, but while she was adjusting his black Death Eater robes, a knock sounded on the door.

“Who is it?” Harry called it.

“It is I, Severus Snape.”

“Come in!”

The door opened, and Snape stepped in, dressed in his Death Eater robes. Posey paused in her work to bow lowly and bid Snape a good evening.

“Posey is finished mister Potter,” said the elf. She disappeared with a crack before Harry could even thank her.

“What brings you here, Professor?” Harry asked calmly.

“We have been working hard all week for a reason, Potter,” Snape drawled, “The time has come to lock away those emotions that will trouble you.”

“Why does it have to be done now?” Harry asked.

“Because when you kill the man who betrayed your parents tonight, it will feel good for a few hours,” Snape replied, his voice low and his eyes dark.

“But when you wake up in the morning and think about what your parents would say had they seen what you had become, what you are capable of, you will run into that bathroom and throw up. Then you will cry until you feel like you may die. I assume you do not want that to happen?”

Harry swallowed. Snape was right; he very much did not want that to happen.

“No, sir.”

Snape bowed his head, “Then we must do it tonight. I can guide you through it if you do not feel capable of doing it yourself, yet?”

Harry took a breath and shook his head.

“No, I think I can do it.”

Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Harry’s forehead.

“Are you ready?”

Harry cleared his mind and breathed in deeply. He shut his eyes and nodded ever so slightly.

“Yes.”

“ _Legilimens_!”

Harry felt Snape break into his mind. He could feel the other man searching for his doubts, for his remorse over Dumbledore’s death, for his worry about his so-called friends despite their betrayal. He concentrated very hard on envisioning an empty Gringotts vault with an open door. As Snape chased after those thoughts, Harry imagined them as bars of gold, and he threw them all into the vault. His face screwed up with concentration, and before Snape could find the thoughts, the vault door slammed shut.

He sucked in a long, calming breath and focused on locking the vault. The handle spun into an unknown combination and Harry opened his eyes.

Snape yanked his wand away but kept it in his hand. He narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“That seemed successful.”

“It was,” Harry said. He thought about Dumbledore’s death and felt only hatred and contempt for the old man, that brought a smile to his face.

“Did it work?” Snape asked tentatively.

Harry turned to look at the potions professor.

“It worked,” he promised him.

Snape did not question him; perhaps he could see the change in Harry’s eyes. Was there a lack of emotion there? It was entirely possible, remorse and guilt, in general, had been a staple of Harry’s personality for pretty much his entire life, so he was intrigued to see who he was without it.

Snape breathed a relieved sigh and nodded.

“Good. The Dark Lord will be pleased to hear that, especially ahead of tonight’s festivities. I will take my leave and congratulate you when you rid us of that _rat_ later this evening. Good luck, Potter.”

Harry smirked, “Thank you, Professor.”

* * *

The initiation ceremony was quite some event. At first, Harry was just glad to be outside. The window in his room didn’t open so fresh air had been a luxury he had been deprived of for two weeks. He looked around with intrigue as Draco led him through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Every so often, the Slytherin boy would point out a particular room or statue, but Harry didn’t pay much attention until Draco pointed to a portrait.

“That was my grandfather, Abraxas. He was a renowned experimental potions brewer. Quite famous too, he worked with Fleamont.”

At this, Harry looked over.

“Fleamont?”

“Your grandfather, Fleamont Potter?” Draco said with a slight frown.

“I didn’t know that was his name,” Harry mused, “The only family I know of are my parents.”

Draco looked horrified at that.

“You don’t know anything about the Potters? By Merlin, I can’t believe that. The Potters have a colourful history. They are rather fascinating. No wonder you know nothing of our world, those hideous muggles deprived you of your rich family history.”

“Amongst other things,” Harry said darkly.

Draco glanced at Harry with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There are a lot of Death Eaters out there. The Dark Lord managed to engineer the escape of 12 Death Eaters from Azkaban earlier in the week; it’s why I haven’t been around as much.”

“You missed your Father,” Harry said with a nod, “I understood your absence, although I did miss your company,” he shot Draco a smile.

Draco smiled back, “Father is pleased to be home, although I suspect Azkaban left more of a mark on him than he would care to admit.”

Old Harry would have felt guilty about that, but there wasn’t a twinge. He bit back a smile, Snape’s plan had worked well, _perhaps too well_ , a little voice in the back of his mind wondered. But Harry didn’t dwell on that thought because they stepped out into the warm May night and Harry breathed in deeply then let out a contented sigh.

Draco paused and chuckled, “You _have_ been inside for a long time, and we do have a lovely night for an initiation,” he mused.

Harry looked up at the full moon and nodded his agreement. Draco was right, there was a big turn-out, and although everyone wore black robes, Harry doubted that all of the people were Death Eaters. He expected that some of them were merely sympathisers. All the same, there were at least 40 witches and wizards gathered around the unlit bonfire.

Sitting atop a high-backed wooden throne was Lord Voldemort. He was far enough away from the bonfire to avoid inhaling too much smoke, but he would also have a prime view of Pettigrew’s burning corpse which was moderately disturbing but what more could Harry come to expect from the self-titled Dark Lord?

The Death Eaters fell silent and parted when Draco led Harry over to the bonfire. Harry held his head high and tried not to look at their faces as he walked towards Lord Voldemort. Despite his best efforts, he could feel their accusing eyes on him while he walked to his fate.

“Good luck,” Draco murmured when he reached his father, who did indeed look haggard and aged from his time in Azkaban, and his mother, who was watching Harry with careful concern.

When Harry reached the throne, Voldemort gave him a small nod and invaded his mind through the soul-link. Harry could have pushed him out, but he didn’t.

_Kneel, Harry_.

Harry knew when he could get away with making sarcastic remarks, and when he had to do as the Dark Lord told him. On this occasion, he decided that dropping onto one knee like a knight swearing fealty to his king was the best option.

A surprised gasp resonated amongst the Death Eaters, and Voldemort smirked triumphantly. He rose to his feet and raised his hands.

“Friends. You join us on a historic day, a day fit for celebrations. On this day we welcome back our brothers who were lost to Azkaban.”

There were respectful nods all around at these words.

“And more than this,” Voldemort continued, “Today we welcome Harry Potter into our ranks. The former golden boy for the light and Albus Dumbledore – I presume that you have all heard the rumours by now – brought about the defeat of his former mentor.”

Excited whispering broke out.

“Silence!” Voldemort called, and it fell immediately.

“Harry has seen the error of his ways and to show his unwavering loyalty to our cause, he will swear it with an unbreakable vow this evening, under the light of the full moon,” Voldemort said. His eyes flicked upwards to the bright, silver moon hanging above the garden.

Voldemort cast his gaze back down and looked at Harry.

“Rise, Harry.”

Harry did so but kept his gaze down out of respect. He could look Voldemort in the eye when he needed to prove a point, but that wasn’t what the Dark Lord wanted right now. He wanted this to be a show, and if it meant that he fell into favour with Voldemort and avoided torture, then Harry could put on a show.

“Bellatrix,” Voldemort said, calling forth his most loyal follower.

“Will you do the honours?”

Bellatrix beamed and stepped forward.

“Of course, my lord, I would be honoured.”

Voldemort held out his hand to Harry, and without hesitation, Harry held out his own. They gripped each other’s forearms, and Bellatrix pointed her wand at their linked arms, murmuring the incantation as she did so.

Magical, silver bonds tied themselves around Voldemort, and Harry’s linked arms and Bellatrix looked up through her heavily lidded eyes.

“Do you, Harry James Potter, swear your loyalty to the Dark Lord Voldemort from this moment forward until he releases you from his service?”

“I do,” Harry said, looking directly at Voldemort for the first time that evening. _Until death basically._

_Precisely,_ Voldemort thought through the soul-link.

A collective gasp sounded amongst the Death Eaters once more, and Harry had to fight to keep the amused smile off of his face. It did not take much to shock these people, did it?

“Do you swear to uphold his cause, whatever the cost?”

“I do,” Harry said again.

Bellatrix’s smile widened, but it looked almost malicious now.

“And do you swear that you will never betray him?” Bellatrix asked in a stage whisper.

“I do,” Harry said, his voice did not waver.

The silver binds disappeared, and Voldemort let go of Harry’s arm.

The Death Eaters were silent, and Harry wondered if they were all holding their breath while they waited to see what would happen next.

“Lucius, the sacrifice?” Voldemort remarked calmly.

Lucius pulled Pettigrew from the crowd. The disgusting creature was whimpering and crying, genuine tears rolling down his cheeks as they had in the Shrieking Shack when he had first tried to repent to Harry over Lily and James’s deaths. It just made Harry hate him more.

“Harry has chosen his sacrifice,” Voldemort remarked.

“Would you care to share your reasoning with our brethren, Harry?”

Harry glared down at Pettigrew then looked up at the Death Eaters.

“This coward is a sorry excuse for a wizard. His magical skill is feeble and certainly not enviable, I have met mudbloods who possess more talent than this shrew. He sold out my parents, he is the reason that they are dead, and for that, he deserves to die.”

The brutality with which Harry had uttered those words were proof to himself, and likely Snape, that he was not as bad at Occlumency as they had believed.

“Light the bonfire,” Voldemort commanded.

All of the Death Eaters raised their wands and fired, “ _Incendio_!” at the base on the bonfire.

While the flames began to take hold, Voldemort handed Harry a wand, and he was incredibly pleased to see that it was his own holly wand. He smiled as it buzzed pleasantly in his hand, happy to be reunited with its owner.

Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at Pettigrew, whose hands and feet were bound. He was still blubbering like a baby, but Harry didn’t care, he couldn’t feel remorse for the man, and even if he hadn’t shut away those emotions, he doubted that would change.

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_

The green light hit Pettigrew in the chest, and he fell backwards, lifeless with tear tracks down his rodent-like face.

Harry murmured a levitation spell and the Death Eaters all jeered and shouted as Harry laid the rats body atop the pyre. They began to chant, and although Harry had no idea what the words meant, it was fascinating to watch. When the flames reached Pettigrew’s body and engulfed him, the Death Eaters all cheered.

Harry turned around and was met by Voldemort. He knew what came next - he knew how this ended.

“Your arm, Harry.”

Harry swallowed down his fear for the first time since he had stepped outside. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe and held out his left arm. Voldemort held his hand with a surprisingly gentle touch and pressed his wand against the tanned flesh of Harry’s arm. Harry braced himself; he knew from Draco’s experience how much this hurt.

Voldemort spoke the incantation under his breath, so quietly that even Harry, who was standing incredibly close to him, couldn’t hear it. Then the pain came, it began with a burning sensation, deep in his arm, through the flesh, to the bone, to the nerves. He grimaced for a brief second then breathed in deeply and regained his composure.

The Death Eaters watched in amazement as Voldemort marked Harry. He stood on two solid legs before Lord Voldemort and watched the magic burn the mark deep into his flesh. He watched it weave around beneath his skin – as a real snake would do. God, did it hurt, but he was damned if he let the Death Eaters see that. Harry had suffered enough pain in his short life to be able to withstand it.

When he was done, Voldemort removed his wand from Harry’s skin and let go of his hand. The Death Eaters cheered and clapped, and as Pettigrew’s corpse continued to burn, they dispersed across the grounds of the manor.

“Most of my followers scream in pain; they fall to their knees with tears on their cheeks while I mark them. None have ever stood before me as you did,” Voldemort said quietly.

“To my ignorant followers, they will think that it was unnatural. They will marvel at how little pain you felt, but I know better. I can feel what you feel, Harry Potter, and that was worse than any pain that has ever been inflicted on you.”

“Yes, it was,” Harry agreed, “But they already hate me for defying you for the past six years, for sending them to Azkaban. If I want to stand a chance of surviving in this world, I need them to respect me.”

Voldemort’s lips quirked up into what Harry thought was a smirk at first, but then he realised that it was a smile and he felt a wave of warmth exude from the other man into his scar – _he was proud_.

“I suggest you mingle, but stay close to Draco. While you both remain under the age of 17, you are protected from the men you just spoke of,” Voldemort advised.

Harry nodded, “Thank you, my lord,” he said as he pulled the sleeve of his robes down over his newly branded arm. The fabric stung against the wound, but Harry ignored the pain – like all other pain, it would ease in a day or two.

Voldemort appeared to be done with him, so Harry wasted no time in hurrying over to Draco who had become something of a comfort to him, his only friend amongst this new world that he was trying so hard to navigate.

“You are not human,” Draco said with a shake of his head, “That was unreal.”

“High pain threshold,” Harry shrugged.

“You’re telling me,” Draco scoffed, “I screamed when he marked me.”

“Well, we went over this, remember? You are a bit of a wet towel,” Harry said with a grin.

Draco punched Harry in the arm, right on the mark and Harry let out a low cry of pain.

“I knew it hurt, you bastard,” Draco remarked.

“Touche,” Harry muttered, as he rubbed his forearm, “How long does it sting for?”

“Weeks if you’re lucky, months if you aren’t,” Draco replied.

They had been meandering over to a little buffet table, laid out with drinks and snacks, while they talked. When they reached it, Draco poured out two glasses of pumpkin juice and handed one to Harry.

Harry took it gratefully and leant against a nearby statue of a peacock or some other pretentious bird.

“This is all very sophisticated.”

Draco hummed thoughtfully as he looked around and tried not to catch Pansy’s eye from where she stood with two people that Harry assumed were her parents.

“This is nothing. I mean sure, we’re celebrating a little more than usual tonight because of the breakout from Azkaban, but a full moon initiation is still a Death Eater thing.”

“Pansy is a Death Eater?”

Draco shook his head, “No, she and her parents are sympathisers, but the ones who fund our cause like Pansy’s father get to come to this stuff. Wait until the Midsummer celebrations that will be a real party. All of the pureblood families will be there, even the neutrals.”

Harry made a mental note to find out what he meant by that but now wasn’t the time. He sipped his pumpkin juice and sighed.

“I like the smell of a bonfire, it’s relaxing, isn’t it?”

“If you excuse the burning corpse on top of it, sure,” Draco replied dryly.

Harry snorted, “Burning body or not, this is still the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“You really don’t get out much, do you?”

“Nah,” Harry answered with an amused grin, “This is my first barbecue.”

Draco looked at him for a fraction of a second then burst out laughing, and Harry couldn’t help himself, he laughed out loud too. Yes, it was morbid to be so happy on a day that should make him miserable, but it was hard not to get infected with the cheerful mood amongst the troops. Death Eaters all across the garden were reuniting with wives, husbands or children that they had missed during their imprisonment, and Peter Pettigrew was finally dead.

Merlin, did that feel good, knowing that the rat's death had been at his hand. Harry looked across the garden and caught Voldemort’s eyes. Those scarlet eyes were surveying him, torn between curiosity and amusement. Harry raised his hand in a wave, and Voldemort shook his head, throwing an exasperated look at Bellatrix who was standing by his side.

From the other side of the garden, Harry shouldn’t have been able to hear what Voldemort said so he could only presume that he had managed to use the soul-link to break into Voldemort’s mind for a fraction of a second.

“I do believe luck is in our favour this year, Bella.”

*** TBC ***


	5. We'll Go Down in History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up with access to his wand and the enigma that is Pollux Pyrites, his new mentor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Centuries by Fall Out Boy.

The initiation had been a turning point. Harry was delighted to hear that he was allowed to keep his wand. He had not given it back to Voldemort after the initiation, and he was expecting to have it snatched away from him at any point, but it was not.

When Harry woke the following morning, the burning sensation on his arm faded away the moment he saw the holly wand resting on his bedside table. Beneath it was a note which Harry snatched up and read eagerly.

_“I am entrusting you with this in light of the vow you swore to me last night. I do not think you are foolish enough to kill yourself just to spite me, especially in light of you joining me because you do not want to die a martyr. The door will remain locked, and should you try to unlock it; you will suffer the consequences. I cannot let you explore the manor without a chaperone, and Draco is busy with preparations for the next stage in our plan. However, your training will begin today, and you shall meet your mentor shortly.”_

Harry felt excited. He got up, washed and dressed. He was getting accustomed to the dressing room and the feather mattress on which he slept better than he ever had before. Perhaps it was the lack of doubts and regrets in his head that made sleeping a little easier. He knew that what he had done was only a temporary measure, remorse was a powerful emotion, and it would find a way to bleed through the safe in which he had locked it away, but for now, he felt guilt-free and that in itself made him feel freer than he ever had before.

A knock sounded on the door just as Harry was shoving his feet into his boots.

“Come in!”

The door opened, and an unfamiliar man stepped inside. He had dressed as if he was from another century – beneath grey robes that sparkled in the sunlight; he wore a deep grey three-piece suit, complete with a silver pocket watch, inlaid with emeralds. He wore knee-length black leather boots and matching black leather gloves. The man looked to be middle-aged, perhaps a shade over 40. His dark brown hair had streaks of grey in it, as did his perfectly groomed beard.

“Good morning, Harry,” He said in a thick, upper-class British accent.

“My name is Pollux, Pollux Pyrites.”

Harry had never met a man like this before.

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

Pollux smiled and said, “You are shocked at my attire? Yes, I do suppose you have yet to meet someone like me. I class myself as a traditionalist, rather than an extremist, but others, our lord for one, simply call me a dandy.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Right.”

“And they are quite right, in both senses of the word,” Pollux continued, “I dress as though I have travelled through time without realising it, and I do enjoy male company a touch more than I ought to.”

Harry nearly chuckled, but he didn’t want to offend Pollux, so he bit back his amusement.

“Well…fair enough, I suppose,” Harry said with a shrug, “Each to their own.”

Pollux smiled broadly, “I see why the Dark Lord said I would find you pleasing. You are a ray of sunshine amongst all of this darkness; you are quite the enigma. No wonder our lord is so enraptured by you.”

Harry frowned, enraptured? He highly doubted that Voldemort was enraptured with him, obsessed, maybe. Intrigued, definitely but enraptured? He shrugged the thought off and looked up at Pollux.

“Sorry if this is offensive, but if you’re a pureblood, how have I never heard your family name before?”

“I am of pure blood, but I am not from Britain,” Pollux explained, “My family hail from Greece but we have since spread out across the globe, some refer to us as social butterflies. We seek out those who can help us, and in return, we help them.”

Harry snorted, “You’d all have been in Slytherin then if you went to school here.”

“Oh no doubt,” Pollux agreed with a sly smile.

“I presume the Dark Lord has informed you that I am to be your mentor?”

“Yes,” Harry confessed, “But he hasn’t told me what he wants me to learn.”

Pollux grinned widely, “Where to begin, Harry? You are to learn everything, all of the knowledge that your blood traitor of a father should have given you; I will impart instead.”

Harry frowned, he hadn’t known that his father was a blood traitor, but then again he could have been given that title for merely marrying a muggle-born.

“I think we should begin with a brief history of the Potter family,” Pollux said. He pulled his wand from his pocket and like him, it was refined. The wand was long and thin, shaped to look like a unicorn horn and inlaid with a shimmering grey substance.

“Pyrite,” Pollux said, following Harry’s line of sight.

“For the mineral that my family are named for. It’s sparkly, like myself.”

Harry chuckled, and Pollux pulled a small book from his pocket. He opened it up and waved his wand around almost artistically as he spoke a foreign incantation. It wasn’t like watching someone do magic, it was like watching an artist paint, and it fascinated Harry.

The spell brought the book to life. Figures rose out of the pages, they were ghostly, but they were there – it was like watching a wands last spell play out with priori incantatem.

“Shall we trace our way back through the Potter family’s greatest minds?” Pollux asked dramatically.

Harry grinned and nodded.

Pollux flicked his wand, and the first figure came to life. He looked like Harry, minus the glasses that he used to be saddled with. His dark hair was messy, and safety goggles covered his deep brown eyes as he hunched over a cauldron.

“Fleamont Potter, your grandfather,” Pollux explained, “He was cursed with a terrible first name to keep his mothers maiden name alive, but he wore it well. He always attributed his excellent duelling ability to the number of times he had been insulted over his name at Hogwarts.”

Harry chuckled at that.

“Like you, the hat sorted him into Gryffindor house,” Pollux continued, “And when he left school, he became a skilled potioneer. He is particularly famous for developing Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion which made the family even richer than it had been before. He married Euphemia Greengrass and eventually, they had a son, your father, James.”

Harry nodded; he hadn’t known any of that.

“Which leads us to Fleamont’s sister, Elladora.”

With a dramatic wave of Pollux’s wand, a beautiful woman rose from the book. She had long black hair which fell down her back in a braid. Her olive skin and her dark eyes gave her a distinctly European appearance.

“Unlike her older brother, Elladora was sorted into Slytherin house,” Pollux explained, “And it was there that she met the handsome, enigma that was Abraxas Malfoy.”

A handsome man in Auror robes emerged from the book. He looked like Draco, only taller, a little more broad and far more sure of himself.

“The two wed shortly after they left Hogwarts and although their union was one formed from love, they disagreed on some of the more suspect policies that Abraxas helped to push through the Wizengamot. Elladora, like her brother, struggled to have a child but eventually, they were given a son, who they named Lucius.”

Harry looked up in surprise.

“Lucius’s mother is a Potter?”

Pollux smirked, “Is your view of the world becoming less linear now, young Harry?”

Harry couldn’t lie and say no, what Pollux was showing him was utterly changing his outlook on both his family and the wizarding world of Britain more generally.

“This brings us onto Fleamont and Elladora’s father, Henry,” Pollux said with a dramatic wave of his wand.

“Your namesake. His friends knew him as Harry.”

Another figure rose out of the page. This man was dressed smartly, in a suit, tie and dress robes. He had the signature Potter dark, messy hair too, but he had at least made an effort to smooth it down.

“Henry was a prominent member of the Wizengamot until he condemned the Minister for Magic’s decision to forbid the wizarding community from aiding Muggles during the first world war. His pro-Muggle views were the reason that the family fell from grace and were excluded from the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“Was he a Gryffindor too?” Harry asked.

“No, I believe he was in Ravenclaw house,” Pollux replied, “His actions were ahead of his time, unfortunately. He believed that supporting the Muggle war would gain him favour with the neutral and liberal families, but the traditionalists were so outraged that it did not take hold. His plans to use his declaration of pro-Muggle views to become the next Minister for Magic were, therefore, dashed.”

Harry was mesmerised by all of this information.

“Now Henry’s brother, Charlus, was another matter,” said Pollux, “He was a true member of Slytherin house. Charlus was ambitious and incredibly intelligent. He married into the noblest house of Black through his wife, Dorea. Ironic in fact, considering that you are currently the heir of both House Potter and House Black.”

_True,_ Harry thought to himself.

“Charlus replaced his brother on the Wizengamot after his downfall and became a scholar, publishing theories about the true nature of muggle-borns that changed opinions and made waves,” Pollux said in a stage whisper.

Harry was amazed. He knew nothing of his ancestors so to see visions of them, to hear what they had done, it was incredible. He had to admit; he was surprised at the names he heard mentioned when Pollux spoke of the marriages his ancestors had made – Greengrass, Malfoy and Black, two notoriously dark families and one that was staunchly neutral.

“So you see,” Pollux said, flicking his wand as more figures appeared.

“The Potter family have never been solidly good or bad; they have never allowed themselves to be neutral either. Like time, they are linear, they change with the seasons like the ebb and flow of the tide. They put their faith in the person who they think can benefit them most, or in the person that they believe in. They did not gain notoriety and wealth by doing what others wanted them to do. They did so by being their own people, making their own decisions and regardless of the fallout, seeing those decisions through.”

Harry nodded, his eyes on the figures.

“The name Potter has been given to politicians, Aurors, Potioneers, Healers, dark wizards, grey wizards and righteous wizards,” Pollux said softly, “It has been taken across the pond to America, it has settled in Europe. The history of the name is rich because of the stubbornness of the men who bore it and you, Harry Potter, are one such man.”

Harry nodded; he looked up at Pollux with a fire burning inside him. He was proud to be a Potter for the first time. Not just proud to be James’s son, but of his family history and of what it meant. Perhaps his father would be disappointed in him, maybe he would feel that Harry had let him down, but his other ancestors would be proud, and that was enough.

“So what do you say?” Pollux asked, his eyes glinting with playful excitement.

“Are you ready to delve into the ancient magical arts that you have only ever heard whisperings of in the back of the restricted section?”

“Yes,” Harry said eagerly and god, did he mean that.

Pollux grinned and opened the bedroom door.

“Then let me show you a library that will take your breath away.”

* * *

Pollux was a breath of fresh air to Harry. He was patient which was a godsend because Harry was not the world’s sharpest or the quickest learner, but Pollux never let that bother him. He persevered and tried different methods until he found one that worked for Harry. Over the following few weeks, he put Harry through his paces and kept him to a rigorous schedule. It was like being in school; in fact, it was probably more intensive than school had been.

He met several other Death Eaters as time wore on, and each one had a particular skill that they helped Harry hone under Pollux’s watchful eye. Stuart Fawley was a man around the same age as Harry’s parents who worked as an independent Curse Breaker. He was arrogant and vain, and Harry couldn’t stand him, but he was good at what he did. He gave Harry a crash course in Ancient Runes and showed him how to break through wards. Their next lesson involved the basics of curse breaking, which Fawley informed him would be particularly useful if he encountered booby traps.

Antonin Dolohov was another of Harry’s teachers. He was an incredibly powerful wizard and the strongest dueller that Harry had ever seen. He had some home-made, speechless spells that he told Harry in no uncertain terms, that he would never teach him. Harry thought that was fair enough; he knew from Snape that wizards tended to get attached to their spells. Dolohov taught him how to cast different strength shield charms, he taught him evasive methods for unshieldable spells, and he corrected Harry’s technique. How had he gotten this far in life when he had been holding his wand wrong? It amazed him how much more powerful and accurate his spell-casting was for that one small amendment. They were yet at the point of having mock-duels, but Harry looked forward to the day when he was ready to do that.

Another teacher was Fitzroy Mulciber. He was one of Voldemort’s favourites because his father had gone to school with Voldemort and had been one of the first original Death Eaters. He was Voldemort’s imperius curse specialist, so Mulciber was tasked with teaching Harry how to resist it. Harry had felt relatively confident about this, having been able to resist Barty Crouch Juniors imperius curse when he had been impersonating Moody. However, it was different with Mulciber. The man was not called an expert for anything, and after four lessons, Harry was beginning to resist the curse. It didn’t help that Mulciber had a terrible sense of humour so had Harry do ridiculous things when he failed to resist the curse. On this final occasion, Harry managed to fight for a good five minutes before Mulciber got to him.

This had led to a full three-minute tap dance routine. Mulciber had tapped his foot along and laughed while Pollux sang some muggle tune to the non-existent music. When Harry snapped out of it, he shook his head.

“Fuck you, Fitz.”

“Language, Baby Death Eater,” Mulciber said with a grin.

“You aren’t even 17 yet. Daddy would not be happy to hear you cursing.”

Harry shot him an irritated look, “He’s our master, not my…that.”

Pollux laughed under his breath.

“Do not be ashamed of having daddy issues, Harry. Do you think we all became Death Eaters because we had perfect upbringings?”

Mulciber snorted, “You did well today.”

“You mean I resisted well, or I’d make a good tap dancer?” Harry retorted.

“Both,” Mulciber chuckled, “That’s the longest you’ve held out for. I reckon in another week; you’ll be able to resist me.”

Harry snickered, “I can resist you just fine, Irish charm or not.”

Mulciber’s family hailed from Ireland, even though Fitzroy himself had grown up in England. He had a distinctive Irish twang to his voice.

“Nobody can resist my charm forever, isn’t that right, Pollux?”

Pollux rolled his eyes, “Trust me, Harry, he’s not worth it.”

“You wound me!” Mulciber said, placing his hand over his heart mockingly.

Harry snorted and grabbed his bag.

“What do we have next?”

“Spell-making 101 with Gus,” Pollux replied, “Adios, Fitzroy!”

“You better practice your resistance, Harry,” Mulciber called after them, “If you break next week, I’m going to make you do the full Billy Elliott.”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Harry muttered to Pollux.

“Trust me,” Pollux said, placing his hand on Harry’s back and ushering him into the corridor.

“You don’t want to.”

Harry’s final ‘lesson’ of the day was with his favourite teacher – Augustus Rookwood, or Gus as Harry had come to know him. Most of the Death Eaters were a little insane in their own ways, some (like Bellatrix) were driven by blood-lust. Others were relatively sane but seemed to have addiction issues with sex in Mulciber’s case and with alcohol in Dolohov’s case. Then there were the Death Eaters who seemed as normal as any other man or woman you would encounter in everyday life, and Gus was one of them. He had been an Unspeakable before his true loyalties had been discovered, he had been a Ravenclaw when he went to Hogwarts, and he was incredibly intelligent and perceptive. Gus had two daughters, Naomi had been four years old when Karkaroff sold him out to the Ministry and had him imprisoned, and Reyna had only been two years old at the time. When he escaped in 1996, Naomi was 19 and working as an Unspeakable at the Ministry. Reyna was 17 and starting her final year at Hogwarts.

That in itself was difficult enough, but to make matters worse, Gus had been one of the Death Eaters who was captured after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, causing him to serve another year in Azkaban. Harry had apologised to him for that on the third or fourth lesson. He had said it quietly so Pollux, who was reading a book nearby, wouldn’t hear. Gus had smiled at him and shook his head.

“You did not cause my suffering, Karkaroff did.”

Harry had asked what he had done to Karkaroff - if he had made his death painful? Gus had smirked and told Harry in graphic detail how he had subjected Karkaroff to death by a thousand cuts. He had drawn out his death and made it last as long as he could, in revenge for the 15 years that he had spent in Azkaban thanks to Karkaroff. Harry listened intently, as he always did when Gus spoke. The man was full of interesting facts and intriguing stories, and he knew things about magic that blew Harry’s mind.

“Pollux said today was spell-making?” Harry asked eagerly.

Augustus laughed, “My, my – aren’t you eager today?”

Harry chuckled, “Are you going to teach me how to make my own spells?”

“I am,” Augustus said, “It is a combination of Arithmancy and ingenuity. So today we begin with a crash course in Arithmancy.”

Harry grimaced, “I’m terrible at maths, Gus.”

Augustus tutted, “Arithmancy is not Maths. It is the study of numbers, it is far more important, and it is all about patterns. Clear your mind, and you will have the hang of it in no time.”

“Do you even need me?” Pollux asked nonchalantly.

“No, Pollux. I am far smarter than you.”

“But nowhere near as dashingly handsome,” Pollux said, throwing his head back dramatically.

Harry snorted, “Why don’t you take those delicate fingers of yours and put them to good use?”

“Yes, click them and have a house-elf bring us coffee laced with a mind-sharpening potion. Harry is going to need it to sharpen his mind, I have just had a quick scan, and it appears that he _is_ terrible with numbers.”

Harry chuckled, and Pollux clicked his fingers, shaking his head at the offence that Augustus had caused. It was all in good humour though, as Harry was discovering, the Death Eaters each had their little quirks and ways of amusing him.

* * *

Harry loved his lessons, and he truly felt like he was beginning to fit in amongst the Death Eaters who trained him. Some still openly disliked him, like Bellatrix who made snide remarks whenever she saw him, and Walden MacNair who sneered at Harry every time he passed him in the corridors of Malfoy Manor.

The house was huge, and it was a maze. If Harry didn’t Pollux by his side every second of every minute that he was allowed out of his room, he would most certainly get lost. It was also hectic, there were always Death Eaters milling around in the communal areas, and there were groups of people working away in the library every day too. Harry didn’t think all of them were Death Eaters, but he found it interesting all the same. This wasn’t just a safe house; it was Voldemort’s base of operations.

At the beginning of June, Harry was granted leave of a different sort. Voldemort had always visited him in his room, but on this occasion, Harry had been invited to supper in Voldemort’s private rooms.

He hadn’t seen the Dark Lord for the best part of two weeks, so Harry was slightly nervous about the upcoming meeting, but he tried his best not to let it show. Pollux showed him into Voldemort’s quarters then left with a respectful, “My lord.”

“Good evening, Harry,” Voldemort said pleasantly, “I hear you have been enjoying your lessons?”

Harry sat in the seat opposite Voldemort as the Dark Lord had motioned for him to do so. He nodded and smiled.

“Very much so. Thank you for letting me have my wand back and for letting the others teach me. I never thought I would be good at this stuff. I’m not the academic sort.”

Voldemort smiled knowingly, “Not everyone learns by reading books or writing essays, Harry. I have always said that Hogwarts is not hands-on enough in their teaching, but with any luck that will soon change.”

“Will you teach? When you take over the school, I mean?” Harry asked.

“I would like to, but unfortunately I do not have the time presently,” Voldemort replied smoothly, “What would you have me teach?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, or just the Dark Arts I suppose,” Harry said, “You would be good at that.”

Voldemort looked at Harry with interest.

“Do you think so?”

Harry just nodded in response.

“Well perhaps one day, once our plans have come to fruition,” Voldemort said.

“What plans are those, my lord?” Harry asked.

Voldemort regarded Harry for a moment.

“Yes, I suppose it will do no harm to tell you about my plans. My men and I are currently working on seizing the Ministry, and we are getting very close. We should be ready within a month or two.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “That’s huge. Do you think you will have seized the Ministry and the school before the end of the summer?”

Voldemort smirked, “Without a doubt.”

The Dark Lord nudged a teacup in his direction and urged.

“Drink. You have had a busy day.”

“Every day is busy,” Harry said, but he picked up his teacup all the same.

“But I don’t mind. I just…I don’t understand why you are helping me like this. You could have held me captive, marked me for the sake of it but without truly making a Death Eater. But you didn’t, you’re teaching me, you’re making me better.”

“And you do not know why,” Voldemort mused, “You don’t think you are worth it, do you?”

God, that hit hard. It hit home. It was true; it was so fucking true.

Voldemort sighed, “Harry, what did we say about thinking so loudly? I avoid you when I have had a long day for fear that you will bring about a debilitating headache.”

“Sorry, my lord,” Harry said, grimacing at his stupidly loud thoughts.

“Your self-deprecating thoughts are unnecessary anyway,” Voldemort pointed out, “You are worthy of the lessons that I am bestowing on you. If you were not, then you would not be improving at such a tremendous rate. All of your mentors are impressed with you.”

“Are they?” Harry asked in surprise.

Voldemort sipped his tea, _that’s weird,_ Harry thought idly.

“Yes,” replied Voldemort, “Augustus speaks very fondly of you. According to his reports, you learn quickly and are eager to discover new things. I suspect you listened intently to his revenge story?”

“The one about Karkaroff?” Harry asked.

“Hmm, so you did?” Voldemort shook his head, “That explains why he likes you so much. He does enjoy telling everyone who will listen about the way he killed Karkaroff.”

“Well, Karkaroff did deserve it,” Harry mused.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Voldemort agreed, “Antonin is impressed with your magical power. Apparently, your duelling skills leave something to be desired, but he believes he can have you trained up nicely within another month or so.”

Harry smiled proudly.

“And Fitzroy says you would make a marvellous dancer if your career as a Death Eater does not work out,” Voldemort finished with a smirk.

Harry chuckled, “I don’t think so, somehow. When I’m not under the imperius curse, I have two left feet.”

Voldemort almost laughed, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled for a small smile.

“You have been progressing well, so I am willing to allow you a little free time, on the grounds of the manor, of course.”

“Without a chaperone?” Harry asked excitedly.

“You will have chaperones, of sorts,” Voldemort replied, “Tomorrow is young Draco’s 17th birthday. He would have had a large celebration under normal circumstances, but most of his peers believe that he killed Albus Dumbledore so he will simply be having a small gathering with our brethren who are close to him in age.”

Harry nodded, “And I’m invited?”

“Invited?” Voldemort said, laughing lowly.

“Draco came to me to ask for my permission himself. You and I both know how much he fears me, I do believe you have become rather important to him.”

“I like him too,” Harry admitted, “I think he might be my first real friend.”

“Kinship is important, and it is clear that your presence has helped Draco to mature into his role,” Voldemort mused. Still, he didn’t seem to believe his own words.

“Draco will meet you after your final lesson tomorrow, and from that point, you will be free to act without a chaperone. I will expect you to be back in your room before midnight, and if you are not, I will be displeased.”

Harry bit back a sarcastic comment, but it flashed through his head despite his best efforts to hide it. _Who am I, Cinderella?_

Voldemort smirked, he had heard the thought.

“There will be no carriages made of pumpkins, Harry. Now run along, you had better get some rest.”

Harry was grateful that Voldemort had taken the comment good-naturedly, he had obviously had a good day. Otherwise, that comment would have gotten him into a lot more trouble.

“Yes, my lord,” Harry said. He rose from his chair and smiled at Voldemort, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

*** TBC ***


	6. You'll Never Get Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry celebrates like a normal teenage boy for a fraction of a second before it all goes to hell, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson.

Harry’s last lesson of the day was with Mulciber. Thankfully, he had resisted well and had, therefore not been subjected to any ballet dancing. He glanced at the clock and then heard a familiar voice.

“Long time, no see.”

Harry grinned and turned around.

“Hey! Happy Birthday.”

Draco smiled warmly, “Thanks. Wait until you see the broom that Father got me, and look at this-” he showed Harry a pocket watch on his lapel, “- it was my grandfather’s.”

“It’s nice,” Harry said, he knew that nice probably wasn’t a strong enough word, but he had never been one for material possessions. He turned to Mulciber, “We done for the day, Fitz?”

“All done,” Mulciber said, leaning back in his chair.

“You gonna run off and play with your boyfriend now?”

Harry snorted, “Funny.”

Mulciber raised an eyebrow, “You think I’m kidding? He’s a Malfoy.”

Harry frowned over at Draco, “And?”

Draco shot Mulciber an irritated look.

“And Malfoy’s are indulgent,” Mulciber said, giving Draco a knowing look, “Hasn’t your Daddy told you that, Draco?”

Draco glared at him and said, “Shut up, Mulciber. What you and my father did during your Hogwarts days is none of my concern, and I certainly do not want to hear about it.”

Mulciber smirked and winked at Harry.

“See ya next week, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “See you.”

He hurried out of the room with Draco and murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to Fitz,” Draco said offhandedly, “He’s an acquired taste.”

Harry snorted, “Tell me about it. He’s had me tap dancing and all sorts. Did you get trained up in all of this stuff when you joined the Dark Lord too?”

Draco shook his head, “No, I was taught during the summers. All of the things you are learning; I started learning when I was 11. Mulciber did teach me how to resist the imperius curse though, and he’s got a sick sense of humour.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Harry admitted, “He threatened me with ballet today.”

Draco snorted, “Has he had you do the full Swan Lake yet?”

“No,” Harry snickered, “Why? Did he get you to do that?”

“No,” Draco lied, badly.

Harry grinned at his friend, “Suddenly your comment in second year makes sense. _Training for the ballet, Malfoy_?”

Draco snorted and nudged him in the ribs.

“Shut up, Scarhead,” he said good-naturedly as they headed outside together.

Harry chuckled and didn’t mention what Mulciber had said about Lucius. After all, why would Harry care if Draco’s dad had slept around with another Death Eater back in his school days? It wasn’t his concern, and he didn’t really care if Mulciber’s suggestive comments about Draco’s sexuality were true either, he was his friend regardless.

“The elves are bringing us a buffet dinner soon,” Draco said as the bright sunlight shone down on them. Harry shrugged off his robes and shrunk them so he could slip them into his pocket. Underneath he was wearing a dark green, short-sleeved shirt and deep grey trousers. Draco was dressed similarly, Harry had used him as a guide and had copied his fashion sense to fit in.

Harry didn’t respond to his comment; he was too busy looking at the group of young people gathered up ahead. A surge of nervousness hit him, Harry had never been a sociable person, he had never been good with other people, and he could bet his bottom galleon that everyone in this little group had been in Slytherin house.

“Happy Birthday, Draco,” One of the boys said with a grin.

Harry hung back a little; he recognised that boy as the once ratty-faced Theodore Nott. He, like the rest of them, had grown up now though and had grown into himself. His dark brown hair was swept smartly over to one side, and his curious brown eyes flicked over to Harry.

“Yeah, I know,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes, “I brought a Gryffindor, but he’s my friend now and the Dark Lord’s favourite project so he’s okay.”

“Hey, I’ve no issue with you, man,” Another familiar boy said. Harry knew the dark-skinned boy to be Blaise Zabini. He grinned, flashing Harry his sparkling white teeth.

“I saw you take the unbreakable vow, you’re good.”

Theo nodded, “Yeah, Father and I were there too. Took some balls, man.”

Harry shrugged, “The Dark Lord doesn’t trust me, and who can blame him? I did spend the last six years trying to bring him down.”

“Can’t blame him for having an insurance policy in place,” Draco said with a nod, “Harry, you know Theo and Blaise, right?”

Harry nodded; he knew of them at the very least. It wasn’t like they had ever been friends.

“Theo is the anti-Slytherin, he should have been in Ravenclaw,” Draco teased, shooting the boy a grin.

“Dick,” Theo retorted.

“And Blaise is one of the most malicious and vain people I have ever met,” Draco added.

Blaise ran a hand through his black hair and smirked in response to that.

Draco continued to make the introductions.

“This is Cassius Warrington. He was a few years above us at school.”

Harry nodded; he remembered Warrington. The older boy had dark hair and grey eyes, “Yeah, you entered your name into the Triwizard Tournament, didn’t you?”

Cassius grinned, “I did, yeah. They picked the Hufflepuff instead through.”

“Probably because he was better looking,” A girl said.

“Right up until he was dead,” Theo remarked.

“Probably a good thing your name didn’t come out the cup,” Harry agreed, but not bitterly or angrily, he felt a pleasant sensation of nothingness when he thought about Cedric these days.

“This is Terry,” Draco was saying when Harry zoned back into the conversation, “He and Cas were in the same year at school.”

The boy who Draco had just referred to, leant forward and shook Harry’s hand, “Higgs. Had the displeasure of playing you at Quidditch once,” he joked.

Harry laughed, “Terence, yeah. You were the Slytherin seeker.”

Terry nodded, he had dark blonde hair and even darker blue eyes, “Before this little shit had his Daddy buy him the position, yeah,” he said, motioning to Draco.

“Merlin, Draco, you were a pretentious little shit,” Harry mused.

Theo snorted, “Fuck me; you have got a big set of balls, Potter.”

“I don’t know how he gets away with it with the Dark Lord,” Draco said with a shake of his head.

“It’s my charm,” Harry said with a grin.

“Or your sudden, dashing good looks,” A new voice said.

Draco snorted, “I know he’s a bit taller Emmie, but don’t you think that’s taking it a bit far?”

Harry looked at the girl in question. She looked a little older than him, and she had dark red hair, cut into a bob. Her brown eyes were surveying Harry, but not with interest, with something akin to lust.

“I’m just saying, you’re not such a scrawny little boy anymore, Potter.”

“Back off, Emmie,” The only other girl in the group said with an amused smile, “He’s only a baby, he isn’t even 17 yet.”

“Says the girl who is sleeping with a sexual predator?” Blaise shot back.

Harry felt entirely out of the loop, and Draco must have noticed because he shut Blaise up with a kick in the shin and said.

“Harry, this is Emelia Avery, she was a couple of years above us at school,” he indicated to the redhead.

“And this is Reyna Rookwood who was in the year above us,” Draco added, motioning to the other girl. Harry looked over and caught her eye, he had passed over Emelia without much thought, but he held Reyna’s gaze for a short moment. He could tell she was Gus’s daughter, but he was a rugged old Death Eater, and she was stunning. Her dark brown hair fell to the middle of her back, and her green-brown eyes were full of intrigue when they met Harry’s. Her lips were cherry red as she smiled at him.

“She is sleeping with a sexual predator, that part is true,” Draco added with a teasing grin.

Reyna shot him an irritated look.

“He isn’t a sexual predator, and if you call him that again, I will not hesitate to curse your bollocks off, Draco.”

Draco looked scared enough of this threat to take heed, so he didn’t mention her boyfriend again. Harry, on the other hand, was bolder.

“Who is it then? Someone older I’m guessing based on their comments?”

“A bit older, yes,” Reyna replied.

“A bit?” Theo scoffed, “He’s old enough to be your father!”

Harry couldn’t help but wonder what her father thought of that, or if he even knew.

“Reyna has Daddy issues,” Emelia said with a smirk, “Daddy abandoned her and went to prison so now she partakes in weird sexual rituals with Fawley to find fulfilment.”

Reyna shot a nasty hex at Emelia, just by thrusting her fingers out and muttering what seemed like an insult, but had obviously been a spell. The hex made hundreds of ants appear on Emelia’s body. The boys all looked thoroughly terrified, apart from Harry, who was just impressed.

Reyna noticed this and smirked at Harry.

“My father taught my mother everything he knew before that snitch Karkaroff put him in prison. Sometimes I think Emmie forgets that.”

Harry chuckled, “Nice. I mean, I for one do not want to be hexed by any of Gus’s homemade spells, he’s been teaching me some, and I mean, they are brutal. But for the record, Stuart Fawley is a complete and utter wanker, and you could do better. If Daddy issues are your problem, plenty other older Death Eaters will treat you better.”

Reyna crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wow, you do have balls, huh? If it weren’t for the Dark Lords protection order, I would kick your arse right now.”

“He’s right though,” Theo said in a sing-song voice, “If its Daddy issues you’re struggling with, Fitz would be into that.”

“I don’t have Daddy issues!” Reyna snapped.

Harry echoed something that Pollux had said not so long ago.

“We’re Death Eaters; we’ve all got Daddy issues. You don’t get here by having a perfect childhood, do you?”

Blaise burst out laughing.

“I fucking love this dude, Draco. Why didn’t we talk to him sooner?”

“Because he was a Gryffindork who hadn’t seen the light,” Draco said, shooting Harry a grin.

“Don’t you mean the dark?” Harry asked.

“Semantics,” Theo snorted.

Harry just shrugged, “Am I the only person here who wasn’t in Slytherin?”

“Nope,” Reyna said, twirling her wand around in-between her fingers and looking at Emelia as she shrieked and scratched at her face, “I was a Ravenclaw.”

Somehow, Harry wasn’t surprised by that.

“Do you think I should free her yet?” Reyna asked as an afterthought.

“Nah, give it another few minutes, I’m enjoying the peace and quiet,” Cassius remarked.

“She’ll have your nuts for that,” Terry snorted.

“Cas and Emmie are together,” Draco said.

“Well, sleeping together anyway,” Cassius said with a shrug.

“Death Eaters don’t date,” Terry agreed with a nod.

“Are we all Death Eaters?” Harry asked, looking around the group.

Reyna shook her head, “No, the Dark Lord is reluctant to recruit women, so Emelia and I are simply sympathisers.”

“And Blaise and I are too young to be initiated,” Theo added, “The Dark Lord doesn’t usually mark anyone until they turn 17. You and Draco are the exceptions.”

Harry smirked at Draco, “We’re exceptional.”

“You’re exceptional,” Draco corrected him, “I was just in the wrong family at the wrong time.”

“You _were_ a sub-standard Death Eater, to begin with, but the Dark Lord is pleased with you now,” Harry mused.

“How do _you_ know?” Reyna asked sharply.

“He told me at supper last night,” Harry replied.

“You have _supper_ with the Dark Lord?” Blaise asked in disbelief.

“We have a complicated relationship,” Harry shrugged.

“You’re not his long lost son, are you?” Theo asked incredulously.

_Something like that_ , Harry thought to himself. But he smirked and said, “Nah, just his favourite project like Draco said.”

“Because unlike me, you succeeded in killing Dumbledore,” Draco said.

“True,” Harry pointed out.

Reyna tapped Emelia on the head to end the hex, “So you did kill Dumbledore, huh?”

Emelia glared at her but didn’t dare retaliate.

“You look like you could use some dittany, lovely,” Reyna whispered to Emelia.

The interaction amused Harry, but he answered her question all the same, “Yeah, I killed him.”

“I helped,” Draco added.

“You did one spell then had a mental breakdown,” Harry scoffed.

“I didn’t have a mental breakdown, just a temporary reduction in my ability to breathe correctly,” Draco said matter of factly, “And it’s my birthday so you can’t be a dick to me.”

“Is that a rule?” Harry asked with a snort.

“Apparently so,” Blaise said smoothly.

Draco grinned, “Come on, let’s move this a bit further away from the house. I have a surprise to share with you all, but it’s not the sort of thing I can have my mother finding out about, and she will no doubt be spying on us.”

The others must have known that Draco was right because they all followed him away from the house into a small thicket of trees. Harry shook his head in disbelief, “You have a stone circle in your garden?”

“Of course we do, this is Wiltshire,” Draco said matter of factly, “And it’s also a perfect spot for sharing this bottle of whiskey that I stole from the kitchen.”

Harry frowned, “Uh, is that a good idea? The summer solstice is in like two weeks, and the stones are crucial for the magic ritual. If the Dark Lord finds out we were desecrating them by drinking; he would torture all of us.”

“Someone has been hitting the books,” Reyna remarked.

“I’ve not had anything else to do. This is the first time I’ve been allowed out of the house without a chaperone,” Harry remarked.

“Has Pyrites been working you hard?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged, “He keeps me busy with lessons, but I don’t mind. It’s better than being locked up in my bedroom waiting for you to show up and play chess with me.”

“Is that an innuendo?” Theo snickered.

“Definitely not,” Harry replied.

Blaise shook his head in amusement at the interaction.

“As much as I hate to admit it, the half-blood has a point. We should stay away from the stone circle.”

“Smart little half-blood,” Reyna teased, almost flirtingly.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “Watch it; your Dad has taught me lots of nifty little spells too, you know?”

“Oh, is that a threat?” Reyna asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

“No, it wasn’t,” Draco said, giving Harry a warning look, “Right?”

“Yeah, just a comment,” Harry played along.

Draco grabbed his wrist and muttered.

“Watch what you say around her; she’s more messed up than she lets on.”

Harry made a mental note to get Draco to explain that later, but he dropped the subject for the moment. Draco cut through some trees with his wand and led them into a clearing, “Ah, a perfect hidden spot!”

Theo grumbled, “I wish my Dad had taken the trace off me so I could do magic too.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Theodore,” Emelia said, “It’s your birthday in like a week, not long now.”

“Not long until you get to do magic whenever you want, and kill your first sacrifice,” Terry agreed, “Who is it going to be?”

“I don’t know,” Theo said uncomfortably, “Just some muggle I guess. I don’t have anyone to swear revenge on.”

“It’s easier if you kill a muggle,” Draco assured his friend.

Cassius nodded, “I chose a muggle too, for similar reasons. Not everyone has a big vendetta against someone.”

“I did,” Harry admitted, thinking of how satisfying it had been to kill Pettigrew.

“So did I,” Terence said, “I killed my muggle scum grandfather. He beat my father for being a wizard, tormented him his entire life. He was a muggle-born, but he was brilliant, he drew my mother into all of this. She’s from a neutral family, you see?”

“Oh, is she?” Harry asked with interest.

Terry nodded, “She’s a Bulstrode by birth.”

“You going to finish that story, Terry?” Cassius asked with a raised eyebrow, “About how your father got himself killed because of his vendetta?”

“Shut up, Cassius,” Terry muttered.

“Revenge is fuelled by anger, anger makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed,” Cassius said wisely.

“As deep and wise as that is, it’s Draco’s birthday, not a political debate,” Harry said as he yanked the bottle of whiskey out of Draco’s hands.

“So let’s celebrate the fact Draco can now legally have sex by getting drunk.”

He took a swig and handed the bottle back to Draco.

“Legally have sex,” Theo smirked, “Like he was illegally having sex with anyone.”

“Oh come off it, Theodore,” Emelia said, “You’re a virgin too.”

“You two just don’t have the same charm that I do,” Blaise remarked with a grin.

“You didn’t get laid because you have charm, you got laid because Pansy is desperate and nobody else wanted to go there,” Theo pointed out.

Harry snorted in amusement, “That is fair comment.”

“Coming from perfect Potter? As if you’ve had sex,” Theo joked.

“You’re right, I haven’t,” Harry agreed, “Thank fuck for that because if I hadn’t realised that Ginny had me under a love potion when I did I probably would have ended up sleeping with her.”

“She’s hot, for a blood-traitor,” Blaise pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter how hot she is, she’s a blood traitor,” Cassius deadpanned.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, “And in Draco’s defence, he was too busy being an angst-ridden wannabe-murderer to think about sex last year, right?”

Draco frowned, “Thanks, I think?”

Harry grinned and patted him on the back.

“Your welcome,” he said while the others chuckled.

It was surreal. For the first time in Harry’s life he felt like he had friends, he was drinking in the woods with friends, and he felt like a normal teenage boy, not a messiah with the world on his shoulders. He never wanted this feeling of freedom to end.

But this was Harry’s life, so it did. It ended rather abruptly when he snuck into his bedroom at 12.15, only to find Lord Voldemort sitting in an armchair by the fire.

_Fuck. Shit. I am so fucking dead._ Harry panicked in his head; then he realised panicking in his head was stupid because to Voldemort his panic would be as loud as if he were screaming it.

“Correct,” Voldemort said coldly, “You did not heed my orders, and you smell suspiciously like malt whiskey, a bottle of which reportedly went missing from the kitchens earlier this evening.”

Amongst the panic, Harry thought, _I feel like I’m getting told off by my dad right now. Except, I don’t have a dad, just a master who is really angry at me right now._

Harry let out a small whine as his scar began to burn.

Voldemort glared at him, “I can control that, Harry. I can make it tingle, I can make it sting, I can make it burn so hard that you feel like your brain is on fire. I can drive you insane through this scar,” he pressed his finger against the scar as if to drive home his point. Harry cried out in pain and had to fight not to pass out as black spots danced across his vision.

Voldemort gripped his wrist in one hand and his chin in the other. He forced Harry to look up at him through the pain, “You will learn to be disciplined. You are not here to make friends; you are here to become a soldier, my most valuable soldier. I want you by my side, I want you as my right hand, but you need to grow up. Friendship is fleeting; I am eternal. Your friends will wither and die, but you carry a piece of my soul inside you. While I live, you will live. In one hundred years, when everyone else is gone, I will be all that remains.”

Harry shut his eyes tightly as the pain in his scar reached the point of no return. He tried and tried to hold it in, but the scream of pain came anyway.

Voldemort let go of him, and Harry fell to his knees, his eyes still scrunched shut.

“Remember that, Harry Potter,” Voldemort hissed.

He stepped over Harry and left the room, and Harry lay on the floor for a very long time, nursing his aching head and feeling utterly disappointed in himself for letting the Dark Lord down.

* * *

Harry avoided Draco over the next few days; he didn’t have to avoid the others who had been at the birthday gathering because they didn’t live in the manor as he and Draco did. But after Voldemort had shown him a lesson, Harry was reminded of the importance of keeping his head down.

So he got on with his lessons, and when Draco tried to wait outside the library for him, he brushed the other boy off with excuses about needing to study in his room or have a bath. Pollux knew why he was pushing Draco away, but he didn’t discourage it either. He, like the Dark Lord, realised that friendships had the potential to be dangerous if they went sour.

However, Harry couldn’t avoid Draco forever. Just over a week after his birthday, he cornered Harry outside. It was just after he had finished a lesson with Dolohov, he had been allowed to do his first mock duel, and the older Death Eater had destroyed him. Of course, thanks to the Dark Lords protection order, Dolohov wasn’t allowed to injure Harry badly. Still, he was able to hit him with schoolboy hex after schoolboy hex until he surrendered and admitted that Dolohov was far better than he thought he was.

Dolohov smirked and held out his hand.

“Fair play to you. You didn’t call for surrender until you really couldn’t bear it anymore. I see why the Dark Lord thinks you will make such a fine soldier.”

Harry would have felt proud about that comment, but that was before the Dark Lord had punished him. Now the statement just made him feel angry at himself for screwing up the favour he had been building with the Dark Lord.

“Thanks,” Harry settled on as he grabbed his bag and headed over to Pollux.

“Enjoy your break, Pyrites?” Dolohov called good-naturedly.

“Oh, it was marvellous,” Pollux replied from where he sat under a large oak tree with a book open in his lap.

“I was transported to far off lands where I could not hear your laughter while you tortured a teenage boy.”

Harry snorted, and Dolohov grinned.

“Always liked you for your sense of humour, mate.”

Pollux snapped his book shut and pocketed it.

“Better luck next time, Harry,” he said, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder and gently nudging him in the direction of the house.

They got halfway across the grounds when Draco fell into step with them.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Harry shot him an irritated look.

“If you’ve noticed that I’m avoiding you, what makes you think I’ll actually answer that question?”

Draco frowned, “Because we’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“I’m not allowed to have friends,” Harry said darkly, “Friendships are dangerous.”

Draco’s eyes widened in realisation.

“The Dark Lord punished you, didn’t he? For getting back so late on my birthday.”

Harry swallowed, but said nothing. Pollux, for his part, had the sense to hang back a little so the two boys could talk.

“I didn’t think you would break on your first session under crucio,” Draco murmured, “Not with how well you hid your pain when he marked you.”

Harry sighed, “This was worse than the cruciatus curse.”

Draco almost stopped in his tracks, but then he remembered that they had to keep moving or Pollux would overhear their conversation.

“Nothing is worse than the cruciatus curse.”

“This is,” Harry murmured, remembering the searing pain in his scar, the burning in his head, the feeling that his brain was on fire. He shook it off as phantom pains began to pulse through his forehead.

“And you should be grateful that it will never happen to you.”

Draco frowned but said no more on the subject. He could tell that Harry was unable to talk about it, whether because it hurt too much or because it was a secret. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I’m sorry that he did that. But you can’t shut us all out forever; you’ll be seeing everyone again next week for a start.”

Pollux had caught up.

“Indeed. It shall be a busy weekend.”

Harry frowned, “Why?”

“The full moon is on Saturday and Sunday is Midsummer,” Draco answered, “You have been learning about Midsummer, haven’t you?”

Harry nodded, “I hadn’t realised the full moon was the day before, though. Is anyone going to be initiated this month?”

“Just one person that I know of,” Draco answered, “You met him the other night at my birthday party.”

Harry knew that Warrington and Higgs had already been marked, so Draco had to be referring to Theo or Blaise, and someone had mentioned that Theo’s birthday was soon.

“Oh, Theo,” remembered Harry.

Draco nodded, “He’s apprehensive about it, but when he settles into his role, I’m sure he will be fine.”

“As you have,” Harry said.

Draco smiled, “Yes. Despite our mistakes, my father and I are gaining favour with the Dark Lord again.”

“Well, at least one of us is in favour,” Harry said with a sigh, “I made him angry when I got back late, and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

“Why did he get so angry?” Draco asked, “You’re not his son. Are you?”

Harry shook his head, “No, but he’s trying to mould me into a soldier, and he doesn’t think I’m disciplined enough. The fact I ignored his orders the other night just proved that I suppose.”

“You are entirely right, Harry,” Pollux remarked. They had reached the door of Harry’s bedroom, “You must show the Dark Lord that you can be disciplined and controlled if you are to be in his favour once more.”

Harry bowed his head, “So if I am a bit more distant for the next little while, I’m sorry, Draco.”

Draco shook his head and shot Harry a genuine smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

* * *

The week wore on, and Harry saw neither hide nor tail of Voldemort. He could tell that the other man wasn’t actually that angry because if he were, Harry would have had flashes of anger or visions. But there had been nothing which was how he knew that the Dark Lord was shunning him to teach him a lesson. The more Harry thought about what had happened that night, the more it scared him. The power that Voldemort had over Harry was quite frightening. He had possessed him once during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and Harry was reasonably sure that he could do it again, especially now that Harry was opening his mind to the Dark Lord, rather than trying to keep it forced shut.

“Harry, you don’t seem to be paying much attention.”

Harry blinked and looked at Augustus.

“Sorry, I was…far away.”

Augustus frowned and lowered his voice so that Pollux, who was sitting at a nearby table, wouldn’t hear.

“Is everything okay?”

Harry wanted to say no, he wanted to confide in Augustus but he was scared of what would happen to both of them if he did so and Voldemort found out. He sighed and rubbed his scar absentmindedly, Augustus followed his line of sight.

“Is it giving you bother?”

“A little,” Harry replied honestly, “It’s…Gus…you’re smart, probably the smartest Death Eater I know.”

“Amongst them, yes,” Augustus agreed.

Harry looked him in the eye, “Do you know how the Dark Lord came back after he tried to attack me as a baby?”

Augustus’s eyes narrowed, “I have a fair idea, yes.”

Harry spoke so quietly that Augustus had to lean forward to hear him, “I am one. He didn’t mean for me to be, but he was so unstable when he attacked my parents that night, that I became part of him.”

Augustus’s eyes widened with realisation, “That explains why you are one of his favourites, and why he placed the protection order on you.”

Harry nodded, “But Gus, he can control it through my scar. He can touch it and change how I feel, he can make me feel warm, he can calm my thoughts, and he can make me feel so much pain. When he’s angry, I feel his anger; I even pass out from it sometimes.”

Augustus listened intently as Harry spoke. Harry continued lowly, “And the other night, he tortured me through it. The pain got so bad, my head hurt for days afterwards, and I felt like my brain was on fire. Do you think…do you think he could kill me that way?”

The older Death Eater looked at Harry very seriously, “Yes, Harry. I think that is entirely possible. You are but a vessel, he could find another vessel with relative ease if he wanted to, or he could make you brain dead and keep you alive with magic.”

Harry swallowed hard.

“Tread very carefully,” Augustus advised, “You are valuable, but not indispensable.”

Harry nodded and cleared his throat.

“I will, and Gus? We never had this conversation, right?”

“Precisely,” Augustus agreed.

*** TBC ***


	7. He's Stronger Than You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo is initiated into the Death Eaters and everyone excitedly begins to prepare for the Midsummer Solstice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Superheroes by The Script.
> 
> Sorry that I'm a few hours later on the update, it's been a hectic week in the lead up to Christmas!!

Harry was beginning to think that Voldemort wouldn’t talk to him again for the remainder of the summer. _Shut up, Harry, you’re being dramatic,_ he thought to himself. He would see him on the full moon in less than a week for Theodore Nott's initiation, whether Voldemort spoke to him or not remained to be seen though.

Harry sighed and looked up from his book. He was trying to read about the importance of sacred ash in certain potions and medicines, but his mind kept wandering. He had wanted to clear it several times, but nothing was working. He worked, he studied, and he enjoyed it, but he didn’t know anything. The Death Eaters didn’t tell him about what was happening outside the boundary of Malfoy Manor, and Harry had shunned the only person who did let slip little secrets now and then.

They were nearing the end of June, which meant that the students of Hogwarts would soon be heading home for the summer. He had been at Malfoy Manor for the best part of two months when he should have been at school, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to his old friends during that time. He wasn’t the only one who had been pulled out. Theo and Blaise couldn’t have been at Hogwarts since they had come to Draco’s birthday party on a weekday. Were the others even at school? Had they been sent home early on account of Dumbledore’s death? Why hadn’t Harry asked Theo and Blaise those questions when he had the bloody chance?

With a groan, Harry shut his book and rested his head in his hands. A welcome knock sounded on the door, and Harry called, “Come in!”

He expected it to be Draco, and although he had been pushing the other boy away, he would welcome his company at the moment. A game of Wizards Chess would do wonders to clear his head and calm his racing thoughts.

“Trouble studying?”

Harry sat up sharply and turned around.

“No, my lord. I just…I’ve been distracted.”

Voldemort stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

“Have you? Your mentors tell me you have done very well these past two weeks.”

Harry was surprised, “Really?”

He didn’t think he had done well; he felt he had been absentminded.

Voldemort sat in the armchair by the fire, close to Harry’s spot by his desk.

“I regret how harsh my lesson to you had to be when we last spoke,” Voldemort said smoothly.

“No, I deserved it,” Harry said quickly, “And I learned my lesson. I’ve been practising control as you wished.”

“I know, I have been observing you from afar,” Voldemort remarked, “Your disappointment was both as pathetic as it was loud.”

Harry felt ashamed by that, and he also knew that it was true, so he had nothing to argue his case.

“I am glad that you aim to please me,” Voldemort added, “But the self-deprecating thoughts I have been picking up since then? They are unnecessary. You are a human, a young one at that, you will make mistakes, and as a merciful lord, I try not to punish the young too harshly.”

Harry frowned. So he hadn’t been getting punished because he was still 16? Would Voldemort start torturing him for every little mistake he made after his 17th birthday?

Voldemort chuckled, “You misunderstand me, Harry. I do not attach an age to my statement; I mean that you are far younger than I and in my youth, even I made mistakes.”

Harry looked up in surprise, “Did you? It doesn’t seem like you did, and Dumbledore showed me a lot about your life. You didn’t fall for Dumbledore’s act like I did.”

“That may be so, but I still made mistakes,” Voldemort assured him, “For one, I made too many Horcruxes. I did not know my soul could become so unstable that I could make an accidental Horcrux, without knowing about it.”

Harry frowned, “You meant to stop after you made the fourth one?”

Voldemort nodded, “Indeed. In all honesty, I ought to have stopped after the first one, or perhaps the second. I knew that splitting my soul would change how I looked, but I did not realise that it would affect my faculties.”

Harry’s frown deepened, “You mean…if you put your soul back together again, you would be like Tom Riddle? You would look like him again; you would be as smart and charming as he was?”

Voldemort bowed his head, “I miss that boy, in hindsight. But it is easy to look back on things with rose-tinted glasses, isn’t it?”

Harry looked back on his own life and found that he didn’t miss any of it if he was honest.

“You can put your soul back together,” Harry said tentatively, “Hermione said it’s possible.”

Voldemort gave Harry a warning look, “It is excruciatingly painful, and it requires an act of genuine remorse which I am not capable of. Do not mention the idea again.”

Harry nodded, “Sorry, my lord.”

Voldemort leant back in his armchair, “I came here to discuss a business matter with you. That old fool Dumbledore was buried last week, and the children of Hogwarts were sent home. When we seize the Ministry, we will also gain control of the school so I must appoint a Headmaster.”

“You won’t do it yourself?” Harry asked in surprise.

“No, I cannot,” Voldemort answered, “I have things to do, searching for my Horcruxes and keeping them out of reach of your former friends for a start.”

Harry nodded his agreement.

“Who would you recommend?” Voldemort asked.

“Well, Snape,” Harry answered, “He’s a loyal servant of yours; he would do whatever you wished within the school.”

Voldemort smirked slightly, “I am glad that we agree. The school will be required to go through some changes, chiefly staff issues. I have yet to decide who will teach our two new subjects and I do suspect we will need a new Muggle Studies professor.”

“Why?” Harry asked curiously.

Voldemort smiled wickedly, “Shall we just say that Charity Burbage is unlikely to survive long enough to return to her post? She has been encouraging relations with Muggles, publically.”

“Ah,” Harry said with a nod, “Fair enough. What are the new subjects?”

“Offensive Magic and Defensive Magic,” Voldemort replied, “Two separate classes. I presume you will agree with me when I say that students should be taught everything so they can make an informed choice.”

Harry nodded, thinking of Dumbledore and the choices he had never given him.

“Definitely.”

“I may put Amycus Carrow in charge of Offensive Magic,” Voldemort mused, “I know you will suggest Antonin, and he was a consideration, but he is a fine soldier, and I require him for more important work.”

Harry nodded once more. Amycus was spell-happy enough; Harry was sure he would delight in teaching children horrific, violent magic.

“I am glad to see we are on the same page,” Voldemort said, amusement lacing his voice as he responded to Harry’s thought, “Do you have any suggestions for the Defensive Magic post?”

Harry’s heart leapt then fell straight back down again. He sighed and looked down at the cover of his book.

“I would suggest Remus Lupin; he was a brilliant teacher, the best I ever had. But he lost all of his friends in the first war, and he thought the sun shone out of Dumbledore’s arse. I doubt anything could convince him to turn to our cause.”

“I do believe you are right, Harry,” Voldemort thought out loud, “And it would cause a fight to the death between himself and Fenrir. The last thing we need is more infighting amongst the werewolves; they are a pathetic excuse for a species and are fond enough of that already.”

“Too much testosterone,” Harry snorted.

Voldemort’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Have you any suggestions from within our ranks?”

Harry pondered on that for a moment before answering, “A couple. I would suggest Fitz, but I don’t think letting him be around school children is a good idea. Especially not teenage girls, and boys for that matter actually.”

“Indeed. Mulciber is a fine wizard, but his lack of impulse control makes him unsuitable for the profession,” Voldemort said, his lips quirking up in amusement.

Harry grinned at the Dark Lord, “How about Gus? I know he’s a good fighter, what with his homemade spells and all but his strength lies in his brains. He was a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin; you could make him Head of House and try to draw some more intelligent kids in. You know as well as I do that Ravenclaws are logical, they will join the cause the moment they realise that there is sense in it.”

Voldemort smiled, “I do enjoy these conversations, Harry. You think out loud, you explain every element that comes into your decision making, and I find it rather fascinating.”

Harry smiled proudly, “I think Gus could even turn some of the light kids to our cause, you know? He has a sense of humour and charisma; the kids would like him. He’s not your typical big, scary, run and scream from them Death Eater like Antonin is, you know?”

“Indeed,” Voldemort said dryly, but Harry was sure he could still detect some amusement in his voice.

He felt more content than he had in days, more settled. The way he had felt when he and Voldemort had been at odds had been horrible, and Harry didn’t understand how such a huge change could occur within such a short time.

“Again, Harry – those are not your feelings,” Voldemort assured him, “Do not associate your attachment to me with yourself. You do not long to be around me and miss me when I am gone because you have suddenly realised that I am a long lost father figure to you. Now that we are in such proximity and have accepted the soul-link, there is a bond there. The feelings you experience belong to the part of my soul within you, it was not supposed to be detached, and it longs to be back where it belongs.”

Harry frowned. That made no sense, but perfect sense at the same time.

“I understand that it is confusing,” Voldemort said softly, “And it is why I have been researching a way to remove the Horcrux from you.”

Harry looked up quickly. But if Voldemort removed the Horcrux, then Harry was useless to him. He would be killed.

“I have no intention of harming you, you silly boy,” Voldemort assured Harry. He reached out and pressed one long finger against Harry’s scar. Harry shut his eyes and breathed in deeply as the confusing thoughts running through his head were banished, leaving a cool, soothing sense of calm in their wake.

“With or without my Horcrux in you, I find you valuable,” Voldemort assured Harry, “You have much potential, now that you have competent teachers. I mean that both as a soldier and as a scholar, in time, you may even be my right hand, but first, we must learn how to work together, not against each other.”

_Wasn’t that the truth_? Harry thought absentmindedly.

“I value your opinions; they are quite different to those that my other followers provide,” Voldemort said, leaning back in his armchair once more, “And I have one final question for you regarding Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded, “What’s that?”

“Some of my followers have suggested that we ban mudbloods from returning to Hogwarts when we seize control,” Voldemort said, eyeing Harry carefully.

“They have suggested a Muggle-born Registration Act which would make us aware of all Muggle-borns in this country. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“I’m not sure that it’s a great idea,” Harry admitted, “It would narrow your support and force all muggle-borns to turn to the light for support. I know some Muggle-borns who would jump at the chance to join you, my lord. Like me, several of them were abused or shunned by their families because the ignorant muggles could not understand magic and you know as well as I do that muggles fear what they don’t understand.”

“Fear breeds violence and hatred,” Voldemort agreed, “You would have me allow muggle-borns entry into Hogwarts then?”

Harry nodded, “I would, and I think they would support you. Some people fighting for the light might even turn when they realised that you were capable of more liberal ideas than they had previously thought.”

Voldemort appeared to be contemplating this, but he said no more on the subject.

“As for the Registration Act, I think it’s a good idea,” Harry admitted, “A blood test can tell us how magical a person is, isn’t that right?”

Voldemort bowed his head, “Indeed, you _have_ been studying hard.”

Harry smiled mischievously, “Test Muggle-borns and then keep the record on file. I bet you that over half of them aren’t muggle-borns at all, but half-bloods. I think a lot of people would be too afraid to tell the person they love that they are a witch or wizard and the number of muggle-borns I know that have a parent who abandoned them is, well, it’s a pretty high number. Then there’s the matter of squibs. I reckon if a muggle-born has one squib parent, a blood test will show them as a half-blood. Sorry if I’m rambling, Gus has had me reading up on blood purity, and I’m pretty fascinated with it.”

“I see that spending your time training not only your body but your mind, will help us in the long run,” Voldemort said as he looked into the fire thoughtfully.

“That idea is quite fascinating. I have thought on it often myself because magic does have to come from somewhere. The idea that muggle-borns can steal magic is quite an absurd and uncultured one, but like muggles - wizards fear what they do not understand, and in recent years, muggle-borns have become more prevalent.”

Harry wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue and tried to close off his mind.

Voldemort noticed. He narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing,” Harry lied, then he corrected himself, “Just a thought that you wouldn’t like.”

“Yes?” Voldemort prodded.

Harry sighed, “Perhaps they are more common because the wizarding world is becoming more liberal. I know you don’t want to hear that because our ideals are traditionalist ones. But not so long ago, almost all families disposed of squibs by sending them on a boat to another country or by killing them - my family included. I have found plenty of records of squibs being carted off to America and Australia; it’s why there are so many Potters in those countries.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“Back then families were traditionalist or liberal - dark or light,” Harry said quietly.

“Now the biggest political party are the neutrals, and I can bet that most of them find it more humane to put a squib in a muggle orphanage which leads to lots of squib lines that then produce muggle-borns.”

“You are right, Harry, I do not like that thought,” Voldemort said dryly, “But I cannot deny that you are most likely correct. It is quite a large problem, is it not?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, my lord. It is.”

“I shall have to decide on it another night,” Voldemort said. He rose to his feet.

“But that can wait until after the weekend's festivities. Do you believe that Theodore Nott will make a successful Death Eater?”

“I think he’s smart,” answered Harry, “Whether he has the stomach for it or not, I suppose we will find out soon.”

“You are an excellent judge of character,” Voldemort remarked, “I believe you would make a good Head of Recruitment.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Head of Recruitment, my lord?”

Voldemort smiled slyly, “When you return to Hogwarts for your final year, I shall task you with recruiting the young heirs of those neutral families that you referred to earlier. As Head Boy, you will have free run of the school which ought to make it easier for you. Of course, should you fail, you will be punished the same way that Draco was.”

“I’d like to think I have proven myself to be slightly more successful than Draco in the past,” Harry said with a sly grin of his own, “I am sure that I can do it again.”

Voldemort chuckled under his breath, “I wish you to know that I inform you of this now so that you may start pruning those young minds as soon as possible. The neutral children have returned from school, and many of them will be in attendance for the Midsummer festivities. We shall all be in high spirits, and I find that is when people are most amiable. Don’t you?”

“Hmm,” Harry mused with a thoughtful smile, “Indeed.”

* * *

Theodore Nott’s initiation went better than Harry had expected. He liked the boy well enough from what he had seen of him, but Harry got the impression that he was more academic than the brutal killer sort. He made an oath to Voldemort, and although he did not let his fear show, he didn’t have the guts to look Voldemort dead in the eye either as Harry had.

In fairness, when Harry had whispered that to Draco, the blonde returned with, “Nobody has ever done that apart from you.”

Theo’s sacrifice was a muggle man. When Voldemort asked him to explain why he had chosen this person, Theo spoke of how he had found the filth on the streets bragging about the hideous deeds he had done to women. Theo talked the talk, he could spit the words with the right amount of venom, but whether he could walk the walk, Harry doubted.

Surely enough, Theo failed when he first tried to use the killing curse, and some of the crueller Death Eaters laughed at him for this – Bellatrix shrieked with glee and amusement, but Voldemort remained silent and observed Theo to see what he would do next. The answer was, he got inventive. His face contorted with a mixture of irritation and humiliation, then he sliced his wand through the air and uttered a severing charm. The strength behind it was quite something to behold for a boy Harry had always thought of as meek.

Needless to say, the Death Eaters jeers turned to cheers when the Muggles head hit the ground and rolled towards the bonfire, the eyes almost popping out as the body fell to the ground a few seconds later.

Harry cocked his head at the twitching headless body while Theo held out his left arm.

“I wonder how long nerves stay alive for,” Harry mused.

“Stop being creepy, Doctor Frankenstein,” Draco murmured, nudging Harry in the ribs.

Harry snorted in response and almost jumped in alarm when a loud scream filled the air. At first, he didn’t realise that it was coming from Theo. It was such a high-pitched scream to come out of a man who had just viciously beheaded someone.

“That’s how most people react,” Draco murmured in Harry’s ear.

“Holy shit, you lot are pussies,” Harry responded.

“No, you’re just freakishly immune to pain, Scarhead,” Draco shot back.

Harry shrugged in response; it was a valid point. All the same, Harry did think that Theo had overdone it a bit. By the time the dark mark was burned into his skin, he was kneeling on the ground at Voldemort’s feet, sweat dripping off of his forehead.

_That’s why you make it hurt so much because that’s where you want them, at your feet,_ Harry thought to Voldemort.

Voldemort looked up and caught Harry’s eye as the Death Eaters dispersed to drink, make merry and welcome their latest recruit.

_Yes, Harry. And you were the only one who did not fall there._

Harry didn’t take his eyes off of the Dark Lord.

_That’s because I don’t want to serve at your feet. I want to stand by your side._

Voldemort chuckled under his breath. Nobody heard it apart from Harry; he supposed it was because he was in his head.

_All in good time, Harry. All in good time. First you must prove your worth to me_

Draco grabbed Harry’s arm, which severed the connection. He looked at Harry with a frown, “Why were you just staring at the Dark Lord like that?”

“Deep in thought,” Harry said, nearly laughing at his own play on words.

* * *

Midsummer brought a sense of happiness to Malfoy Manor that Harry had not felt before. It was busy; the elves were all rushing around underfoot, every so often Lucius Malfoy would curse as one almost tripped him up. Draco would try to hide his laughter, Lucius would glare at his son and send a firing curse at the offending elf as it scurried away. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen; she was far too busy commanding the army of elves and making sure that they did everything to her satisfaction.

The celebrations would take place that evening, lasting into the following morning, Harry suspected.

“Are all of the neutral families going to be there?” Harry had asked Draco absentmindedly as they scavenged in the grounds for potion ingredients. Apparently, it was a Midsummer tradition for all those who were to be wed that year to take a fertility potion.

“Not all of them, just the ones who have links to my family,” Draco replied, “Once upon a time we would have all come together to celebrate Midsummer. All of the wizarding families in England, gathering at Stonehenge or other such places, but it’s not like that anymore.”

“Because of the Muggles,” Harry said. He had been to Stonehenge once with the Dursleys. He had been locked in the car, of course, while they visited the monument. But he knew how busy it had been, how many Muggles had crowded around it.

Draco scoffed, “Muggles, exactly. They have no idea of its significance. They think it’s an ancient burial ground and it is, it’s a place where we have lain great magical leaders to rest, and they defile it for their own curiosity.”

Harry frowned, he could see why that was not very respectful. The Muggles, of course, had no idea that they were digging on the sacred magical ground.

“The Dark Lord will change that when he seizes power,” Draco said with a satisfied smile, “One of his policies regards reclaiming sacred magical ground and Stonehenge will be amongst the first. With any luck, we ought to be able to spend the Winter Solstice there this year.”

Maybe he was being brainwashed, but the more time Harry spent around Voldemort, Draco and the Death Eaters, the more sense he saw in his ideas. He was right. Magical ground belonged to witches and wizards, not Muggles.

“How did they get so much more powerful than us?” Harry blurted out.

Draco shot Harry an incredulous look, “Have you read up on your history much during your lessons?”

“Not as much as I should have,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“Clearly,” Draco chuckled, “The Statute of Secrecy, obviously. Before that, we could keep the Muggles down because we were so much more powerful than them. It had gotten to the point when we didn’t even need to use force; they were scared of us, so they fell into line and accepted the natural order of things. It was only when the Muggles started to fight back against us that things changed. When we went underground for our protection, we lost power, and from that point onwards they have bred like rabbits and gotten more and more powerful. We should never have run away. We should have fought back. The statute of secrecy is a joke.”

Harry remembered the Tales of Beedle the Bard all of a sudden. Draco thought it hilarious that Augustus was forcing Harry to read stories he had been read as a child, but Harry found them fascinating. He remembered something that Augustus had said after they discussed the Wizard and the Hopping Pot.

“Gus said Muggles used to have wizarding children killed a lot,” Harry said with a frown, “Because they were vulnerable, they couldn’t control their magic.”

Draco nodded, “He’s right.”

“So we got scared of Muggles and ran away,” Harry said, “Our society fell into history. I mean, look at us, we’re a century behind the muggles in terms of progression. All because nobody was brave enough to fight back against the people who pushed us into hiding in the first place. Until the Dark Lord came along.”

“I doubt he would take kindly to you calling him brave,” Draco said quietly, “That’s a Gryffindor trait.”

“We’re not all tied to one house, Draco,” Harry said, “I was a hat stall, and in hindsight, I think I should have been in Slytherin, but I have plenty of Gryffindor traits too. We are all made up of elements of each house; it’s like the old proverb says. _We are all the founders’ children._ ”

“Jeez, I didn’t think turning to the dark side would turn you into a scholar, Harry,” Draco said with a teasing grin.

Harry grinned back at him, “Guess not having Hermione nagging in my ear improves my concentration.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” Draco said scornfully, his nose wrinkling as he thought about Hermione Granger.

*** TBC ***


	8. This is Where I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and friends celebrate Midsummer, and the family events give Harry some perspective on his new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Where I Belong by Simple Plan (feat. We the Kings & State Champs).
> 
> I won't update next Friday because I'll be busy celebrating Christmas with my two little boys but I will try and update shortly after Christmas for you all! :)

The celebration indeed was something to behold. It began in the early evening, and the garden of Malfoy Manor was full of wizarding families. Harry had been surprised by the number of small children who were running around the garden, but Draco had assured him that this was a family affair and that there would be no murder tonight. He never thought that would pass as an ordinary sentence, but this was his life now.

“It is rather beautiful, don’t you think?”

Harry frowned because he didn’t recognise the voice. He turned around and did a double-take when he saw a handsome man smirking at him. Upon a second glance, there was no mistaking who he was. His hair was greying, he had some wrinkles, but his cheekbones were still defined, his hair still perfectly groomed and smooth, his eyes still a piercing shade of blue.

“Tom Riddle,” Harry said in disbelief.

“Voldemort if you wish to remain in my favour and Tom, if you insist on using my Christian name,” He said with a disdainful eye roll, “Drop the Riddle if you do not want to spend the rest of this evening under the cruciatus curse.”

Harry snorted, “Joking about torture? You _are_ in a good mood. What’s with the disguise? And how are you even doing that?”

“It is a potent glamour charm,” Voldemort replied. He took a step towards Harry, and they naturally fell into step together as they descended the steps into the garden, “As for why? Look at the number of small children, Harry. My appearance would alarm them.”

“Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard the world has ever seen,” Harry mused, “Surpassing even Grindelwald, and he doesn’t want to scare some little kids?”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry grinned, “Does it feel good to be able to raise your eyebrows again?”

“You ought to think yourself lucky that the occasion has me in such high spirits,” Voldemort said good-naturedly and somehow, he wasn’t so scary when he looked so handsome.

_I’m touched, Harry._

Harry shot him an amused, sideways glance.

“If you can do this, why don’t you do it all the time?”

“People fear me and a large reason for that is because of my appearance,” Voldemort remarked.

“Fear isn’t everything though,” Harry pointed out, “You know yourself that you can charm people into doing what you want as well.”

“Charm is all well and good, to begin with, but it will not get you everywhere,” Voldemort pointed out, “And this form is not as handsome in old age.”

Harry shrugged, “It’s quite refined actually. You’ve got the whole silver fox thing going on.”

“Are you quite sure you don’t want to be tortured this evening?” Voldemort asked dryly.

Harry bit back a chuckle, “On that note, I’m going to go and find Draco because I don’t know who anyone in this garden is, and I feel like that’s pretty bad form.”

Voldemort smiled in amusement, “You are correct, it is terrible form. Stay close to Draco; he will keep you right and Harry?”

Harry turned around, “Yes?”

“Make sure you remain in sight of Pyrites,” Voldemort ordered him, “There are neutral families here, and traditionalist families who are not within our ranks.”

Harry smiled at him, “I’ll stay close to my babysitter,” he promised.

Voldemort gave him a nod, so Harry turned around and made a beeline for Draco.

“Hey! Where did you get to?”

“I was just telling the Dark Lord that he ought to glamour up as a normal human more often,” Harry said with a wave of his hand, “Long story, but I kind of like old him more than new him.”

Draco frowned, “Does this story involve time-travel?”

“Kind of, it’s complicated,” Harry shrugged, “And I also can’t talk about it, so let’s move on.”

Draco shot him an amused look, “Who dressed you tonight? Pyrites?”

“Yeah, is it that obvious?” Harry snorted as he looked down at his attire. He was dressed as if he was from another century which was how Pollux Pyrites dressed every day. His robes were deep green and the old style that tied shut rather than shut with a clasp.

Draco wore something similar, but his robes were fancier. They were embroidered with a magical silver thread that glittered in the sunlight.

“So,” Harry said, leaning against the same tree as Draco, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what happens tonight but let me run it by you to make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

Draco chuckled, “Go on?”

“We light the bonfires once everyone is here which will be soon, I guess?”

“Very soon,” Draco agreed.

“Then we perform the sacrifice at the stone circle, and all the un-wed maidens have to dance around it,” Harry continued.

“The virgins perform a sacred dance, yes,” Draco said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Naked around a bonfire while chanting?” Harry joked.

“You read too much Shakespeare,” Draco said, looking up at him with a grin.

Harry chuckled, “What happens after the sacrifice again?”

“That’s when we protect the grounds against evil spirits,” Draco reminded him, “Then the little ones go to bed, and we have a party. We sing, we dance, we drink and we make merry. It’s a time for engagements, actually. I hope my father doesn’t pull a marriage contract out of his arse and tell me who I will have to marry.”

“I doubt your mother would let him,” Harry mused, his eyes scanning the garden.

“She doesn’t get much of a say in these things,” Draco grumbled.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that the virgins are the only ones in white?” Harry asked. Dotted around the garden were a few girls – aged between 15 and 20 Harry would have said, who wore white cotton dresses.

Draco nodded, “The flower crowns are made up of St. John’s wort flowers; they are said to keep evil spirits at bay.”

_Fair enough,_ Harry thought idly.

It was strange to see the Death Eaters dressed in ordinary robes, without their hoods drawn up or their masks on. It was even more strange to see them with their families.

Emelia Avery was one of the girls in virginal white. She was standing with her father, Albion, who was a Death Eater in a relatively senior position within their ranks. Harry noticed Augustus Rookwood nearby with his wife and daughters. He could see where Reyna, and her older sister Naomi, got their looks from him, Augustus’s wife was beautiful.

Gus caught his eye and raised a hand, smiling over at his protégé. Harry smiled and waved back, ignoring Reyna’s wink.

“Is Reyna wearing white?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Yes, she’s a hypocrite, and everyone knows it,” Draco muttered under his breath.

“Does Gus know she’s sleeping with Fawley?” Harry asked curiously.

“Probably, he knows she has a reputation,” Draco said, but he wasn’t paying that much attention. His eyes were on Pansy who had just walked into the garden with her parents; she was also wearing white.

“Now that is a lie,” Draco scoffed, “She’s the house whore.”

“Nice,” Harry said dryly, “So coarse from such a refined young pureblood.”

“You sound like the Dark Lord.”

“I’m channelling my inner megalomaniac,” Harry joked.

Draco choked out a laugh and shot him a look, “You’re in a good mood.”

Harry shrugged, “This is a party, an actual _party,_ not a ritual with the burning corpse of Peter Pettigrew to bring the mood down.”

Draco nodded in agreement but said no more. A call came from one of the Senior Death Eaters that it was time to light the fires. They all raised their wands and stood in circles around the bonfires; the children were held back by their mothers as several “Incendio’s” were fired at the same time, lighting up six huge bonfires.

“Don’t forget the protection charms,” Augustus called to them, “Don’t want the little ones getting into any trouble.”

They all cast protective charms on the fires so that the children wouldn’t get hurt if they got too close. Then, as one, they moved to the forest as the sun rose higher in the sky. Harry found the entire thing fascinating; he couldn’t stop himself from people watching which meant that he wasn’t really watching where he was going.

He realised this when he almost collided with two little girls who had just run right in front of him.

“Briar!” A familiar voice chastised.

Harry looked up as Azriel Gibbon, one of the younger Death Eaters, reached down and scooped the little girl up in one arm, “Sorry, Harry. Midsummer gets them so excited, and they don’t pay enough attention.”

Harry shook his head and smiled, “Don’t worry about it, Azriel.”

Azriel shot him a grateful smile and threw his little girl onto his shoulders.

“Daddy, not fair!” The other little girl said. Harry realised that they must be twins because they were identical.

“Come on up then Blair,” Azriel said, lifting his other daughter into his arms.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” A female voice said as lovely young woman with a young boy on her hip joined them, “You found them. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, Stella. They were just trying to knock Harry off his feet,” Azriel said.

The woman looked up in surprise, “Oh, I’m so sorry-”

Harry shook his head, “They are fine, honestly. You have a really lovely family.”

Azriel smiled broadly at that, “Thanks, man. Enjoy your first Midsummer, yeah?”

“Daddy, hurry! I want to see them dance!”

Azriel laughed and shot Harry an apologetic look then headed off with his family.

Draco nudged Harry in the ribs, “You going to start walking again or what?”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “That was just…weird.”

“What, seeing Az with his kids being a devoted Dad?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at him, “Surely, you’ve spent enough time with us now to realise that we aren’t a bunch of crazy murderers.”

“I have,” Harry agreed, “I don’t think any of you are monsters, well…maybe one-” he accidentally sought out Bellatrix, but Draco snorted in agreement.

“It’s just…I don’t know. When you spend your whole life getting told that Slytherin house only produces dark wizards and that Death Eaters are semi-sadists, you get a certain image in your head,” Harry explained, “But then I look around tonight. I see Azriel with his family, and I look at Cadmus, he’s one of the most promising torture experts, and he’s cuddling his freaking three-month-old baby.”

Draco chuckled.

“Gus has a daughter on each arm,” Harry continued, “Your mother and father look happy, look at them.”

“I’d rather not look at them staring lovingly at each other,” Draco remarked.

Harry laughed and said, “It’s just a bit of a culture shock.”

“I bet,” Draco agreed. The conversation had reached its natural end, which was convenient because they had just reached the stone circle. They all crowded around it, and Voldemort stepped up onto a small stone podium.

Even in his glamoured up form, he commanded respect. All he had to do was call out, “Friends!” and silence fell. Even the little ones were quiet the moment their parents hushed them.

“I am honoured to begin the sacrifice this year,” Voldemort said, “This is a wonderful year to be celebrating. I have not seen this many families spend Midsummer together in a very, very long time. It bodes well for the year ahead because, as you all know, Midsummer is a turning point in the year for us. It is a time to give back and to thank the earth and the spirits for the magic they provide. As the master of this evenings ceremony, I shall begin.”

Harry watched with interest. Voldemort cut the palm of his hand then walked up to one of the seven large stones that made up the circle. He pressed his hand against it and left a perfect, bloody handprint.

The moment he moved away, he healed his hand with wandless magic, and someone else stepped forward.

“The families go up in alphabetical order,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, “So the Avery’s are up next. I’ll nudge you when it’s your turn.”

“I know the alphabet, wanker,” Harry muttered.

“Do you know the surnames of the people who come before you and after you though?” Draco quipped.

_Fuck, he had a point._ Harry grimaced, “Maybe?”

“No, Harry, you don’t,” Draco said, his voice laced with amusement, “So I will nudge you when it’s your turn.”

“Okay, thanks,” Harry said grudgingly.

He ignored Draco’s soft chuckling and looked back to the Avery family. Albion, his redheaded wife and their daughter Emelia had all left a bloody handprint on one of the rocks. MacNair marked the rock at the same time as them, which confused Harry until Draco informed him that MacNair was a half-blood but that his pureblood heritage came from his Avery mother.

The representatives of the Bulstrode family went next. Terence Higgs and his mother, Selene Bulstrode pressed their bloody hands against the third rock in the circle, and Harry realised that they were gradually working their way around the ring with each sacrifice.

“Where’s Millicent Bulstrode?” Harry asked Draco in a whisper.

“Not here,” Draco replied, “The Bulstrode family is technically neutral, and Millicent’s mother is from the Perks family which is staunchly neutral. Selene is only here because of her connection to Terry.”

Harry nodded. It was interesting that not all Slytherins were necessarily traditionalists or purebloods though, that changed his perspective on the house divides too.

Next, the Carrow family marked a rock. Harry recognised Alecto and Amycus because they were both Death Eaters who he had seen around Malfoy Manor over the past couple of months, but he didn’t recognise the slightly older woman who was with them. She looked different from the two siblings, Alecto looked rather hag-like, and Amycus looked like his face was distorted, but this woman was quite frail and pretty.

“Whose that with them?” Harry asked Draco.

“Their mother, and sister,” Draco whispered back.

Harry spun to look at him, “What?” he asked under his breath, “Which one?”

“Both,” Draco said, “She’s their older sister and their mother. The Carrows took inbreeding too far, the rest of us have all accepted that we’ll probably marry our cousins one day, but that? That’s just wrong.”

Harry wrinkled his nose up and couldn’t help but agree, “Where is he now? Their Dad and…Grandad?”

“Dead,” Draco answered, “Nobody knows if his wife or his daughter killed him. Maybe they conspired to do it together.”

“I wouldn’t blame them if they did,” Harry muttered.

Draco shot him an exasperated look and brought his finger up to his mouth. Harry felt like an older sibling was chastising him, but he shut up all the same as the next few families rose to sacrifice their blood in thanks for their magic.

Victor Crabbe, the Death Eater, approached the stone with his son, Vincent. Harry wondered why Crabbe’s mother wasn’t there, but he didn’t ask in case Draco got bitchy with him again. After the Crabbe’s, a haggard-looking man with dark blonde hair walked to the stone.

“Whose that?” Harry whispered.

“Julian Crouch, he’s a Death Eater and the last male Crouch,” Draco answered.

After Crouch was Stuart Fawley, Harry’s question of whether Gus knew that Fawley was sleeping with his daughter was answered when he saw the disdainful look that Gus was giving his fellow Death Eater. Next were the Flint family, which consisted of Marcus and his father, Francis. After that, the Death Eater Gregor Goyle gave his sacrifice. He wasn’t a handsome man, but his wife was petite, dark-haired and quite pleasing on the eyes. Gregory had gotten his looks, and his brains (or lack thereof), from his father.

Once they had left, the next family approached the stones, and this one caught Harry’s eye. He knew it was the Greengrass family because he recognised one of their daughters as Daphne Greengrass, the girl who had told him where Draco was on that fateful night - the night he had killed Albus Dumbledore, the night that had changed his life.

Daphne wore a cotton dress, and the sacred yellow flowers Draco had mentioned adorned her white-blonde hair. She was barefooted, and she moved lightly and gracefully. Holding her hand was a younger girl. Harry assumed that the dark-haired girl was her sister.

A tall man with greying black hair led them to the stone, his hand in his wife’s, she was a graceful blonde woman who reminded Harry of Narcissa. There was a slightly younger man who resembled Daphne’s father; Harry presumed it was Daphne’s Uncle. They all cut their hands to leave their mark on the rock, and the younger girl whimpered when her father made the cut. Daphne cut her own hand and did not even wince, which caught Harry’s attention. She held her head high and placed her hand on the rock with such conviction; he couldn’t take his eyes away from her.

“It’s interesting that Adaline is missing,” Draco mused.

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“Adaline Greengrass,” Draco elaborated, “Her sister is here; that’s her there, the pretty blonde one.”

Harry saw the older blonde woman that Draco was referring to, “Aurora, she married into the Turpin family. Don’t you recognise Lisa from school?”

Harry didn’t recognise the dark-haired girl in white. She looked a little like Hermione, only shorter with curly-hair that seemed easier to tame than Hermione’s.

“Adaline is usually here too,” Draco continued, “But maybe they thought it better to skip this year, what with her son consorting with a Weasley and all.”

Harry’s frown deepened, “Who is her son?”

Draco looked at him, incredulously, “Michael Corner.”

“Oh,” Harry said, realisation dawning on him, “Right, that would explain why he’s not here.”

Draco shook his head and muttered that Harry needed to pay more attention to the people in their year who weren’t in Gryffindor. He weakly objected, _I do know some people in other houses,_ he thought huffily.

The next family were the Lestrange’s. Rodolphus and Rabastan walked up to the stones with Bellatrix in tow. They left their marks then Bellatrix walked past Voldemort, she smiled overly sweetly at him as she did so and he smiled falsely back at her.

_When did I learn which smiles were real and which were false?_ He thought idly.

Voldemort turned to look at him, _Stop studying me and pay more attention to the ritual._

Feeling even more like a scolded child, Harry crossed his arms. _God, I’m huffing._

_Yes, it is not becoming. Be quiet, Harry._

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry rolled his eyes in response. He had been so caught up in his interaction with Voldemort that he hadn’t noticed Draco leave his side. Harry looked up to the rock and saw Lucius, Narcissa and Draco all leave their bloody handprint there.

Draco kissed his mother on the cheek and made his way back over to Harry as Fitzroy Mulciber cut his hand and placed it upon one of the rocks.

“You could have stayed with your family,” Harry murmured.

“Mother told me to return to my lost little lamb,” Draco said with a wicked grin.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yes, I am,” Draco agreed “But without me, you wouldn’t know who any of these people are.”

“I know Fitz,” Harry said, nodding towards the stone.

“Hmm,” Draco mused, “He needs to marry and produce an heir soon; he’s the last of his name.”

“He probably has a few illegitimate kids somewhere,” Harry muttered, making Draco snigger in amusement.

Although Harry joked, he was beginning to get nervous. Alfred Nott and his son, Theodore both moved forward to place their handprint on the rocks, and Harry knew that it would be his turn soon. He felt like an 11-year-old boy, shuffling on his feet, waiting to be sorted. Except Ron wasn’t by his side anymore, Draco was.

Draco nudged him, “Look alive. You’re up after the Parkinsons.”

Harry nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat. Pansy and her parents removed their hands from the rock and Draco pressed his hand on the small of Harry’s back, giving him a little nudge forwards.

“I get the hint,” Harry hissed.

He still hated attention, and he knew that everybody was watching him right now. Most of them knew that he had joined Voldemort’s cause, that he had turned to the dark side as it were. But not all of them.

Harry reached the rock and bowed his head to Voldemort in a small, respectful nod. Voldemort nodded back, and Harry cut his hand with ease. He squeezed the wound and then pressed his hand onto the rock, holding it for a few seconds and removing it. Seeing that bloody handprint amongst all of the others was incredibly satisfying.

All the same, Harry was glad to be out of the limelight. He sucked in a deep breath when he reached Draco, and the blonde boy shot him a smile, “Quit hyperventilating, you did great,” he whispered as he grabbed Harry’s hand.

Harry jumped and was about to pull his hand away, alarmed by the sudden touch.

Draco gave him a strange look and whispered a healing charm. The cut on Harry’s hand immediately began to sow itself shut, and Harry felt like an idiot for reacting so defensively.

“Thanks,” Harry said awkwardly, dropping Draco’s hand and focusing on Pollux as he left his handprint on the rock.

The Rookwood family were next. Augustus, his wife and his two daughters all left their mark on the rock. Then the last representative of the Rosier family made his mark, looking as world-weary as he always did. Albert Rosier was a widower who had lost his son, Evan, to Mad-Eye Moody at the end of the First Wizarding War.

The Rowle family was next, and Thorfinn left his handprint then returned to his spot next to the Parkinson’s, his sister Hyacinth was Pansy’s mother.

Next up were the Selwyn’s and there were quite a few of them. Howard Selwyn was the Head of the family, so he left his handprint first then his wife, Isabella, followed. She was a Fawley and the older sister of Stuart Fawley. They had two children, but their eldest went first. Cadmus was a Death Eater, but his wife was from a neutral family with light leanings. Harry only knew this because Draco had just told him so.

“She’s a Brown, his wife Laurel,” Draco gossiped, “She’s Lavender’s older sister. You know the little Gryffindor slag who fawned after Weasley?”

Harry nearly snorted at Draco’s language, but he managed to contain himself, “Yes, the octopus who tried to suck his face-off, you mean?”

Draco shot Harry a disgusted look, “That is a horrific analogy.”

“Blame Hermione, it was one of hers,” Harry said, his thoughts darkening as he realised that he missed his former friend a little.

“Anyway, it’s interesting that she is married to a Selwyn when her sister is such a pro-light person,” Draco mused, “She was part of your little gang, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, but she was never very good,” Harry admitted, “I always got the impression that she only joined up because her friends were doing it, she’s a follower if ever I saw one.”

“Oh, completely,” Draco agreed.

Cadmus and Laurel had a baby; they looked young, so Harry supposed that they had married relatively soon after leaving Hogwarts as his parents had. Harry knew that their little boy was called Caius and that he could already roll over and say ‘Da’ because Cadmus had told him three times the previous night at Theo’s initiation.

Howard’s other daughter was a girl called Clara. She looked a fair bit younger than Cadmus. Harry would have put her in her early 20’s. She also seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the ritual, and likely the people that she was surrounded by for it. All the same, she left her mark with her family.

Along with the main branch of the Selwyn’s, Azriel and his wife left their handprints. Harry had spoken quite a bit with Azriel and knew that he was also a half-blood. He had joked to Harry about joining their ‘Half-Blood Death Eaters Support Group’. He had said it was relatively small and full of emotional trauma and Harry had grinned, knowing he would instantly like Azriel. Harry could only assume that Azriel’s pureblood heritage came from a Selwyn mother.

“Is Azriel a Selwyn?”

“His mother was,” replied Draco, “And he married well, which is why he’s in the Dark Lords favour, his wife is a Rookwood by birth.”

“Is she?” Harry asked in surprise, his eyes falling on Estella as she placed her hand against the rock and smiled at her husband, Azriel smiled right back at her.

Draco nodded, and the two boys fell silent once more. The next family to place their handprints were the Slughorn’s and Harry panicked because he hadn’t realised that Horace Slughorn was here. Horace who had been friends with Albus Dumbledore, who must have seen him place his handprint on the rock.

“Slughorn is neutral with traditionalist leanings,” Draco murmured, “I can hear your heart beating from here, calm down.”

“Won’t he tell McGonagall that I’m here?” Harry asked in a whisper.

_He has been informed not to._

Harry was startled; he had forgotten that Voldemort could tap into his conscious at any given moment now.

“He won’t,” Draco said quietly.

_Do not worry yourself with our plans, Harry. Simply live in the moment and enjoy the evening._

Harry gave the Dark Lord a small nod and looked back to the stone circle. The Death Eater William Jugson was standing behind Horace, his hand in his wife Piper’s.

“Jugson is a half-blood too, he gets his pureblood heritage from the Slughorn’s,” Draco explained, and suddenly Harry understood why Horace had traditionalist leanings. Like Azriel, William had young children – a boy who looked around seven and a girl who looked around five.

“I wanna do it!”

Piper chuckled and looked at the boy, “You are too young, Arlo.”

“Yeah, Arlo!” The little girl agreed.

“Hush, Aria,” William said, picking his daughter up, “You can help me, see?”

Aria grabbed his hand and pressed it against the rock, and Arlo did the same for his mother. This got a chuckle from several people and made them all smile.

Next Snape left a mark on the stone, and Harry temporarily wondered why he hadn’t gone up during the ‘P’ section because his mother had been a Prince. He shoved the useless thought out of his head as another couple of Death Eaters left their handprints. Tristan Travers was the sole heir, and Antonin Dolohov was connected to the family through his pureblood mother.

There were only a few families left now. Cassius Warrington and his half-blood father, Nicholas, left a handprint, along with his mother, Ellen Rosier.

After that, a young redheaded man who looked remarkably like Bill, minus the ponytail and the piercings, walked forward.

“Is that a Weasley?” Harry asked Draco in disbelief.

“Yeah, Samson. He’s a Death Eater, didn’t you know that?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know any Weasley’s apart from Ron and his siblings.”

“He’s a cousin,” Draco said, motioning his head at the man, “His father is Charlus Weasley, Arthur’s younger brother.”

“Whose he married to?” Harry asked curiously, “And is he a pureblood?”

Draco shook his head, “No, he’s a half-blood. His mother is a muggle-born, like yours. His wife is a half-blood too, she’s called Kaira.”

Harry watched with interest as Kaira, Samson’s wife cut her hand open and placed it on the rock. She had short, blonde hair and looked a little like Fleur, but not anywhere near as beautiful.

“They have kids,” Harry said, more to himself than Draco.

“Yeah, I think Orla is three this year, and Ezra will be one,” Draco answered, “Samson joined up as soon as the Dark Lord returned. I’ve seen their kids growing up. I know you think I'm not too fond of Weasley’s, but it’s just the ignorant Prewett-Weasley’s I take umbrage with.”

“You and me both,” Harry muttered.

Samson and Kaira left the stone circle and picked their children up, murmuring thanks and smiling at Azriel and Estella who had been keeping them in check.

Harry took his eyes off of the two young families and looked back to the stone circle as another relatively large family walked into the ring. It was the Yaxley’s, led by Corban, the Death Eater and Head of House. His wife was the beautiful, elegant, dark-skinned Zola Zabini.

They had two children – a son, Crispin whose exotic wife Katerina hailed from the continent. The couple had two young children who Draco informed him were called Cyra and Ada, one was nine, and the other was five.

Corban’s daughter, Vera, was incredibly beautiful and the spitting image of her mother. She had a little boy in her arms; Harry thought he looked around four.

“Where’s her husband?” Harry asked Draco nosily.

“She doesn’t have one,” Draco replied, “Nobody knows who Alaric’s father is, Corban gets spell-happy if anyone asks which makes us think it’s another Death Eater. Father thinks it’s Fawley.”

“Could just as easily be Fitz,” Harry pointed out.

Draco nodded his agreement; they both knew about the Irishman’s reputation. They said no more as the final family left their marks on the rocks, which now looked like a beautiful piece of art. Zara Zabini and her husband, Osiris, marked the stone first and then Blaise left the final handprint on the rock.

The timing had been perfect; the sun was now very high in the sky.

The girls in white all stepped into the stone circle, and the women began to sing. Harry could pick out some peoples voices above the din, but one of them was Narcissa’s – she sang beautifully. The men started to join in with the singing, and Harry was glad that he had made an effort to learn the song because otherwise, he would have been the only one who wasn’t singing.

The five girls in white were the two Greengrass sisters (Harry didn’t know what the younger one was called), Emelia Avery, Reyna Rookwood and Pansy Parkinson. They all held hands as they danced. The singing became more triumphant, everyone began to clap, and some people stomped their feet as the sun completed its descent, and the day became night.

Harry had barely even noticed the sunset, he had been mesmerised by Daphne Greengrass and, judging from the amused look on ones face and the exasperated look on the others, Draco and Voldemort had both noticed.

The song ended, and everyone cheered. Voldemort clapped his hands and stepped forward once more, “Before we say goodnight to the youngsters among us, we must first protect the grounds from the evil spirits who rise on Midsummer’s Evening. Could all those who can cast such protection charms step forward?”

Several people did so, and Draco nudged Harry.

“You can cast a Patronus, can’t you?”

“Uh, I think so,” Harry answered with a frown, “I haven’t tried since I turned dark.”

“You didn’t turn dark, you idiot,” Draco scoffed, nudging Harry again, “Go on. We need as many people as we can get. A lot of the heads of families spent time in Azkaban and can’t cast the spell anymore, go.”

Harry walked forward, irritated at Draco for putting him in a position where others could ogle him once more. He saw what Draco meant, less than half of the group had come forward to cast a Patronus and none of the Death Eaters who had spent time in Azkaban were among them.

The whole thing made Harry feel nervous. Could he still cast a Patronus?

_Of course, you can. You are happy here._

Harry chanced a glance over his shoulder at Voldemort. _Or have I been misreading the situation?_ The Dark Lord questioned Harry.

_No, I am happy here,_ Harry thought back, _I just don’t know if I can still use my old happy memory. Thinking of my parents doesn’t make me as happy as it used to._

_Then think of something else. Perhaps the Greengrass girl who you were so enraptured by earlier?_

Harry smiled slightly and turned away from the Dark Lord. He stood in a tight circle with the others; they were all shoulder to shoulder as they raised their wands to the sky and cried in unison, “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

Not many people could cast a fully corporeal Patronus which surprised Harry a little. The Death Eaters who had avoided Azkaban during the first war or who had only joined up for the second war were mostly only able to cast a shield. This was true in the case of Albion Avery and Terence Higgs. Most of the Selwyn’s were capable of casting a Patronus, but they were also just shields. Silvery blue jets of light shot out of the wands of the 15 or so people who couldn’t cast corporeally patronuses. Some of those people surprised Harry – Daphne could cast the charm, and so could Lisa Turpin, they were the only other people his age to do so.

Even fewer people could cast a fully corporeal Patronus. Harry thought he was amongst just over ten of them who were able to do so. Stuart Fawley was a highly trained Curse Breaker, so Harry wasn’t surprised when a large snake slithered out of his wand and circled the shield that was forming above the stone circle before diving into it. He was impressed by the amount of Greengrass’s who could cast fully corporeal Patronuses, mainly because of the ease they seemed to do it with.

A swan swam through the night sky after bursting out of Daphne’s father, Cygnus’s wand. An eagle soared alongside it having been conjured by his brother, Phineas. Adaline, who Draco had said was from another branch of the family, had an owl Patronus which flew into the growing shield as well. The combination of the three Greengrass Patronuses made the shield grow significantly.

Harry was pleased to see Azriel and his wife both cast a corporeal Patronus, but he wasn’t surprised. Azriel was brilliant; he had the potential to be an Auror if he wanted to be and his wife, Estella was a Rookwood. Harry knew that they were a very powerful, intelligent family, and he suspected that Augustus had been able to cast a Patronus before his imprisonment in Azkaban. It amused Harry that Azriel’s Patronus was a Kodiak bear – known to be vicious when threatened, and particularly when its family was threatened. Estella’s was a wildcat, fierce, strong and silent.

Naomi, Augustus’s eldest daughter, sent her vulture Patronus flying into the shield and Harry caught Gus grinning proudly out of the corner of his eye.

Harry, who was not supposed to be able to feel the shitty emotions like guilt and remorse anymore, had to swallow the lump that rose in his throat when he saw the fish Patronus emerge from Horace Slughorn’s wand. He knew the significance of that; he knew that it was because of his mother.

He forced the feeling down and focused on the other Patronus forms. Samson Weasley, who reminded Harry of Bill so much, had cast an Alsation Patronus, and Osiris Zabini’s was a black panther.

Pollux Pyrite’s was the penultimate Patronus to enter the shield. It was a peacock, and it positively pranced out of his wand then strutted into the shield with as much elegance and grace as Pollux himself. Harry would have laughed if it hadn’t been for what happened next.

His stag Patronus hadn’t burst out of his wand and pranced forward eagerly as it always had before. Instead, a swirling ball of blue light had hovered in mid-air before him. Harry had never cast a mass Patronus charm before, so he thought, maybe it was just waiting for the right time to merge with the shield.

However, now that it was the only one left, the ball uncurled and filled up the sky above the stone circle. Harry gaped and stared along with everyone else as the gigantic Basilisk reared its head and circled the shield before diving down with as much force as the real Basilisk had in the Chamber of Secrets.

The moment it joined the shield, there was an explosion of light as the protection expanded and covered, not just the stone circle but the entirety of grounds. Harry was vaguely aware of the crowd of people bursting out into applause and a child shouting, “Daddy, did you see that?”

“That was awesome, Daddy!” Another yelled.

Harry turned around and looked Voldemort in the eye.

Voldemort smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“And you worried that you were not happy enough here to cast a Patronus?”

“I would like to say smugness doesn’t suit you, but unfortunately it does,” Harry said quietly.

“Enjoy my good mood because I can assure you, it will not last forever,” Voldemort said smoothly.

Harry nodded, “In that case, I will quit while I’m ahead and wish you a pleasant evening, my lord.”

Voldemort chuckled under his breath, “Congratulations, you are learning,” he said before moving over to the Lestrange’s while the others gathered up their young children so they could be carted off to bed by an army of house-elves.

“A Basilisk, really?”

“I didn’t know it had changed,” Harry said. He turned to look at Draco, “But I suppose it makes sense. After all, I’ve changed.”

Draco looked at him with quiet amusement.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “I’ve changed a hell of a lot.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Draco reminded him.

Harry wanted to agree, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. He sighed, “I need to disappear to somewhere quiet. My Occlumency lessons with Snape taught me how to lock away the emotions that make me feel this way. You know the crushing guilt that I’ve carried on my shoulders for years?”

Draco nodded, “I know somewhere quiet; come on – I’ll show you.”

Harry fell into step with him and said, “I’m going to have to clear my mind and stop getting distracted by emotions. This is just the beginning, I don’t know what the Dark Lord has planned for me, but I know that whatever is to come is going to be harder than this. I think he wants me to go back to school for one, so I’ll have to face everyone that I betrayed.”

They emerged into a little clearing. At its centre was an uprooted tree, and it was nicely isolated from the noise of the main gathering.

“I know it will be hard, facing them all this year,” Draco said honestly, “But I’ll have your back.”

Harry smiled at his new friend, “I know you will,” he said, grabbing Draco’s shoulder, “And I appreciate it.”

Draco smiled back at him; then, an uncertain look passed across his face. Harry was about to ask him what was wrong when Draco leaned in slightly. Harry frowned then realised – almost too late – where this was going.

“Woah,” Harry said. He took a step back, “What was that?”

Draco’s face flushed, “Sorry, have I been reading the signs wrong?”

“What signs?” Harry asked incredulously.

“You’ve been really nice to me,” Draco said quietly, “And we’ve been spending so much time together.”

“Because we’re friends,” Harry said. He ran a hand through his unruly hair nervously, “I mean, don’t get offended. I just don’t see you that way, you’ve become like a brother to me these past few months.”

Draco nodded, “Right. I am so sorry, can we please just forget this ever happened?”

“I’ll lock that memory up with the rest of my conflicting emotions,” Harry said with a weak laugh.

Draco laughed too, “Great idea. Look, I’ll leave you to it, and I’ll see you back at the party?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, see you there.”

Draco left the clearing, and Harry sat down heavily on the upturned tree. What the hell? How had he been sending out signs? Had he been accidentally flirting with Draco? He thought it was just friendly banter, but maybe that passed as flirting in these circles. He shook his head and let it fall into his hands. He had to get his emotions and his racing thoughts under control.

* * *

When Harry re-emerged, the party was in full swing. He slipped out of the forest just in time to hear Lucius Malfoy being teased by Augustus’s wife.

“Lucius, were you fond of Pollux’s Patronus?”

Lucius rolled his eyes, “Very funny, Johanna.”

Johanna smirked, “You are ever so fond of peacocks and the way they prance around. Are you sure it doesn’t incline you towards Pollux?”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, “You know fine well that I am not inclined towards Pollux.”

“Yes, too open for you, isn’t he?” Johanna returned, “You prefer the more rugged Death Eaters. Is that the real reason that Fitzroy has not taken a wife yet?”

Lucius looked at Mulciber across the garden, “Oh, I doubt it. Fitzroy is not very selective when it comes to sexual partners, but monogamy is not his style.”

“Not like you,” Johanna said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “The moment you wed Narcissa, all of your frivolities came to an end.”

“Yes,” Lucius said firmly, “Because not only am I loyal to my wife, I also have the luxury of loving her. I have told you this several times, Johanna, particularly during the years that your husband spent in Azkaban. Does he know how you spent those 15 years?”

“I have not told him in such terms,” Johanna remarked, “But a woman has needs, Lucius, and her husband cannot fulfil them when he is serving a life sentence. Can he?”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her and stepped away, “Enjoy the festivities, Johanna,” he said before walking away.

So Lucius and Johanna Rookwood had been a thing? Well, that was interesting, if nothing else. Harry stepped out of the thicket into the garden and saw Draco on the other side of it. He was immersed in conversation with Daphne Greengrass. Her little sister stood by her side with her head down; she seemed like a very timid little thing.

Harry walked over to them, arriving just in time to hear the tail end of what Draco was saying to her.

“… and of course you wearing white is a farce.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow at him, “Now, now, Draco. Just because Blaise and I had our fun last year, I am still a virgin.”

Draco scoffed, and Harry cleared his throat to make his presence known.

“Ah, mind cleared?” Draco asked him.

Harry smiled politely, “Yes, it feels much clearer. Good evening, Lady Greengrass.”

Daphne smiled, “Lady Greengrass is my mother, please just call me Daphne.”

“In that case, good evening Daphne. Who is this delightful little thing?”

Daphne’s eyes darted to her left, to the girl who stood by her side. She was younger than Daphne, her hair was jet black, but she had the same piercing blue eyes.

“This is Astoria, my sister,” Daphne replied calmly, “She will be finishing her O.W.L year at Hogwarts this year.”

_5 th year, _Harry pondered to himself. She looked younger somehow, there was an innocence about her that Daphne did not seem to possess.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lady Astoria,” Harry said calmly.

“And you,” Astoria said timidly.

Daphne ignored her sister's feeble attempts at politeness and said, “Your Patronus was quite something to behold. I had heard stories of you being able to cast a fully corporeal one, but all the same, it is quite some sight.”

_It had been,_ Harry thought to himself.

“And for someone of our age,” continued Daphne, “It was very impressive.”

Harry smirked, “Thank you. I have been able to cast one since I was 13.”

“13?” Daphne asked with interest, “Well, you _are_ an asset, aren’t you?”

The question was hypothetical, so Harry didn’t answer.

Daphne smiled at him _, or was it a smirk?_ It was hard to tell the difference.

“I must say, I understand the comment you made to me before you disappeared from school now,” Daphne said, her eyes fixed on Harry’s, “When I said that you and Draco were on opposing sides, do you remember what you said?”

“At the moment,” Harry answered.

“Hmm,” Daphne hummed, “Exactly.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “What exactly are you trying to say here? That you disagree with my decision? Surely as a neutral, it does not concern you.”

“It doesn’t you are perfectly right,” Daphne said with a falsely sweet smile, “I did not mean to disrespect you.”

Harry frowned, “You think I would punish you for hurting my feelings?”

“I do not know you,” Daphne pointed out diplomatically, “All I know is that when I spoke to you last, you were the Gryffindor hero and the poster boy for the light. Now Dumbledore is dead, and you are celebrating your first Midsummer with the Malfoys. I find it is always better to err on the side of caution with such a mysterious man.”

Harry eyed her with interest, “Very well. I hope you enjoy the festivities and I shall see you before our return to school, no doubt.”

Daphne looked shocked that Harry intended to return to school, but she simply bowed her head respectfully. Draco shot her a warning look, and Harry knew the blonde boy well enough to know what that look meant. He was telling her to bite her tongue, not to be so bold in front of Harry again, and especially not when Death Eaters surrounded them.

“Is she afraid of me?” Harry asked Draco when they were a safe distance away.

“Astoria? Oh most definitely, she is only a girl,” Draco pointed out.

Harry picked up a glass of champagne and looked at the man who had fast become his best friend, “No, not her. Daphne.”

Draco regarded this question for a moment before answering, “No, I don’t think so. Daphne Greengrass is not afraid of much; she was nicknamed the Ice Queen by our peers in Slytherin house.”

Harry watched the blonde girl with interest as she crossed the garden and curtseyed to the Dark Lord. It was all perfectly polite and proper, but Harry could see that she did not mean it.

“She’s a good actress.”

“Hmm,” Draco agreed, “A perfect one, yes. Watch your back around her when we go back to school. She’s neutral, and her family have historically always been such. They value their business and their own family more than their loyalty or ties to other families. I just found out that I am to be wed to one of them before my 21st birthday.”

Harry looked over at Draco with interest, “Which one?”

“Oh my father thinks himself to be very reasonable, so I get to choose,” Draco said sarcastically.

Harry snorted and sipped his champagne.

“All the same, the Greengrass’s are very insular, regardless of the families they marry into,” Draco continued, “The family motto, _Family First_ , has always proven true. However, this war is different. It is bigger than anything that has come before, and there is a chance that the Greengrass’s change tact and volunteer to fund the Order of the Phoenix. If that happens, the sisters may turn spy, so watch your back around her.”

“I will,” Harry said, his eyes still on Daphne, even though she had not looked back at him once, “Is she the heir?”

“As it stands, yes,” Draco answered, “There is an older sister, but she was disowned.”

“Why?” Harry asked curiously.

“She married a muggle-born and that in itself would have been manageable. Being neutral, the Greengrass family do not put as much stock in pureblood beliefs as families such as mine do,” Draco said with a wave of his hand, “But when their squib daughter was born, Lydia was cast out. It would have been a scandal had the press found out, and as I said, the Greengrass family are all for protecting their image.”

_And what a fine image it is too,_ Harry thought to himself. It was almost as if she had heard his thought. Daphne turned around and caught his eye across the garden. She raised a hand and smiled, but the look in her eyes did not match the smile on her lips. It was calculating, analytical and as far as Harry was concerned, entirely captivating.

“They are incredibly magically powerful, aren’t they?” Harry asked Draco.

The blonde boy nodded, “Extremely and they have never picked a side. Not in this war or the first war.”

Harry smirked, “I’ll turn them.”

Draco laughed incredulously at that and patted Harry on the back.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew. If you turned the Greengrass’s, I think the Dark Lord would bow to you.”

“Is that a challenge?” Harry asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Not unless you’ve got a death wish,” Draco retorted. He caught the eye of Theodore Nott and made a quick excuse to leave. Harry waved him off disinterestedly, his eyes still on the enigma that was Daphne Greengrass.

*** TBC ***


	9. Do I Fight or Do I Run?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry attends his first Death Eater meeting, and preparations for an impending battle begin…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Mort623 for proof-reading, picking me up on my grammatical errors, plotholes and all the things I wrote in but would totally forget to mention again if not for his many notes at the side of my document!!
> 
> Also, last update before Christmas so to everyone celebrating it - Merry Christmas! I know it's going to be a horrid one for many of us in the UK this year, but keep your chin up, persevere and hopefully this darn virus will be gone soon (Harry Potter can destroy Voldemort's horcruxes in less time than our government can get this virus under control!")
> 
> But all the same - Merry Christmas everyone! (Next update on Wednesday, 30th December!)  
> \-------------------------------------  
> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> War on a Desperate Man by Eli Young Band.

June bled into July and Harry did not see much of Draco. He expected that the Slytherin boy avoided him after that awkward almost-kiss in the woods during the Midsummer celebrations. Harry focused on his work, on studying, reading and on his duelling lessons.

During a lesson in the library with Augustus, he raised the thought that had been milling around his head. He flopped onto the sofa and swung his legs up onto the armrest.

“Gus, do I give out gay vibes?”

“Get your feet off of that. It is genuine Italian leather!” Pollux exclaimed.

Harry rolled his eyes and moved his feet, slowly and deliberately while Pollux glared at him.

Augustus chuckled, “Not particularly, Harry. Why do you ask?”

“Draco tried to kiss me on Midsummer,” Harry said with a wave of his hand, “He said he must have misread my signs. But I have no idea what signs he was referring to.”

“Draco is not used to such genuine friendship. I expect he took it for more than it was,” Augustus said, “But it is a good thing that you did not reciprocate. The Dark Lord does not like Death Eaters to be in relationships with each other. He makes some exceptions, of course.”

“Bellatrix and Rodolphus,” Harry said, straight away.

Augustus nodded, “Precisely. All the same, had you returned Draco’s affections, I think you would have found yourself in a world of pain when the Dark Lord found out.”

“Hmm,” Harry mused, “Well then I should think myself lucky that I don’t want to make out with the ferret.”

Augustus chuckled, Harry had filled him on the nickname. He had asked after he had overheard Harry calling Draco a twitchy, little ferret.

“You seem more light-hearted than you have been in a while,” Augustus observed.

“I’ve been filing through my thoughts every other day,” Harry said with a wave of his hand, “I’m keeping the ones that make me doubt my actions under lock and key.”

“A wise decision,” Augustus said. He leant back in his chair, “You will need to remain emotionless if you are to get through your first meeting tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” Harry said, wondering what on earth the Dark Lord had in store for them.

* * *

Voldemort had gathered them all-around a long, dining room table in Malfoy Manor. Voldemort sat at the head of the table and on one side, sat Bellatrix. On the other, a seat had been kept free, and Harry knew who it was for – one of the two Death Eaters who had yet to arrive.

Boots clicked against the marble tiles in the entrance hall, and the men in question strode into the silent room.

Voldemort looked up, “Yaxley. Snape. You are very nearly late.”

“I was caught up in a meeting with the Order, my lord,” Snape explained.

Voldemort bowed his head, “Severus, here.”

Harry wasn’t surprised when Voldemort gestured to the seat by his side. As Snape moved towards him, the Dark Lord instructed Yaxley to take the last remaining seat, next to Dolohov.

Voldemort turned his attention to Snape, “You bring news, I trust?”

“I do,” Severus responded, “In light of Dumbledore’s death, the Order of the Phoenix has appointed a new leader.”

_McGonagall, probably,_ Harry thought idly. He wasn’t trying to project the thought to Voldemort, but he supposed that the Dark Lord had heard it anyway.

“They chose to elect Remus Lupin,” Severus finished.

Harry frowned. Now that did come as a surprise, Remus had fought his corner? Had Remus fought to take control over the likes of McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt? That surprised him, and it also confirmed that his hunch had been right – Remus would never turn to their cause.

“The werewolf?” Bellatrix cackled, “They’ve put a werewolf in charge?”

Voldemort’s eyes gleamed maliciously, “Your niece ought to be happy about that, Bellatrix. I hear that the remaining Blacks have replaced inbreeding with bestiality.”

Bellatrix’s laughter turned to confusion, “My niece?”

“Nymphadora,” Voldemort said, and this sparked Harry’s interest. If he were a cat, his ears would have perked up, “She has just married the werewolf of which you speak.”

Several of the Death Eaters laughed at this, and Harry didn’t know what to make of it. Tonks and Lupin? He hadn’t seen that one coming at all, but then again he had never been the most observant person.

“She is no niece of ours, my lord,” Bellatrix spat, “We have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.”

“What say you, Draco?” Voldemort asked, quieting the room immediately, “Will you babysit the cubs?"

The laughter erupted around the table once more.

“No, my lord. But I should be honoured to kill my cousin and the beast that she married should we come across them in the battle that you speak of,” Draco said. He held his head high and did not let the hilarity at his expense get to him.

Harry hid a proud smile. He had come quite some way from the boy too scared to kill Albus Dumbledore that he had run into a few months ago.

Voldemort seemed to agree. He bowed his head in a gesture akin to a nod. Then he began to talk once more, “You have quite the right idea. Our family trees do become diseased over time. We must prune them to keep them healthy. I shall allow you to cut the diseased parts away, Draco, before they threaten the health of the rest.”

Harry frowned - that sounded awfully like ‘kill any Muggle-borns and purify your family tree’, but he hadn’t thought that was Voldemort’s agenda.

“In saying that, we must not be too harsh on the Mudbloods. After all, it is not their fault that they had the misfortune to be born into filth,” Voldemort said. A sharp intake of breath went around the table, “They have their uses. Half-breeds do not.”

It was a good thing Greyback wasn’t here, Harry was positive he would have gotten offended, and an offended Greyback would probably have led to dead Death Eaters. In fact, that was perhaps why he wasn’t here.

“Our colleagues in the Department of Mysteries assure me that it is possible to breed out Muggle blood, isn’t that right, Gibbon?”

Azriel, who was an Unspeakable, nodded, “Yes, my lord. Within two generations, we can breed out the impurity.”

“I find this research incredibly interesting,” Voldemort regarded, “Particularly when we consider the difficulties that old families have in conceiving children. I do believe that Mudbloods would make good breeding stock if nothing else.”

The table was silent. There were no defiant objections, but there wouldn’t have been even if people did disagree because they were all too scared of Voldemort to object openly. He changed the subject before someone could come up with a polite way of saying that they disagreed. With a flick of his wand, the female above them groaned and began to struggle.

“Do you recognise our guest, Severus?”

Snape looked up at the woman.

“Severus, help me!”

Snape’s eyes flashed very briefly, but then he brought it back under control. Harry remembered what he said to Dumbledore in one of the memories he had shown him, about how lately the only men and women he had watched die were those he could not save. Something told Harry that Snape wished he could save this woman.

“Ah, yes,” Snape said with a small nod.

“And you, Draco?”

Draco looked up and frowned, but then he shook his head.

“But you would not have taken her classes,” Voldemort agreed, “For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

It clicked into place now. Voldemort had told Harry that Burbage would not survive to see in the new term, he had probably already had her captured at that point.

“Yes. Professor Burbage teaches children about Muggles, about how they are not so different from us,” Voldemort said quietly, “There are those among us who would disagree. Is that not so, Harry?”

Harry looked up, surprised to be addressed officially by Voldemort. All the same, he answered the question, “Yes, Muggles are nothing like us. They cannot understand us, so they fear us and fear breeds contempt.”

“I could not have said it better myself,” Voldemort confessed.

“Please…Severus…Please.”

“Silence,” Voldemort said lazily.

He must have performed wandless magic because she fell silent immediately.

“She would have us all mate with Muggles,” Voldemort said distastefully, “Or no doubt, werewolves.”

Nobody laughed. The mood amongst the Death Eaters was incredibly solemn because they could hear the contempt in Voldemort’s voice. Harry scratched at his scar, and it began to ache as Voldemort’s anger seeped through to him.

“ _Avada Kedavra.”_

The words were uttered quietly, not shouted. But the green light lit up the room and hit Burbage square in the chest. She fell onto the table, and a few of the newer Death Eaters jumped, Terence Higgs nearly fell out of his chair.

Draco pushed his chair back slightly but did not react beyond that. Harry cocked his head at the corpse of the woman which lay in front of him on the table.

“Dinner, Nagini,” Voldemort said softly.

The snake, who had been lurking near the fireplace, slithered onto the table.

Pollux Pyrites, who had been remarkably quiet until this point given his position as a prominent advisor, spoke for the first time.

“I do quite agree that the woman had to die, my lord. We cannot allow people like her to encourage breeding with Muggles but were the dramatics of it really necessary?” asked Pollux.

Lucius seemed to agree, his eyes pained as he looked at the table – bowing in the middle and noticeably cracked where the body had hit it, “It’s mahogany,” he agreed.

“Oh be quiet about your damn table, Lucius,” Dolohov exclaimed, “Between your fancy wood and your peacocks, you’re a sorry excuse for a Death Eater.”

The look Narcissa gave her husband made Harry inclined to say that she agreed with Dolohov on that point.

Bellatrix cackled, and Harry watched with morbid fascination as Nagini ate her prey whole.

“Quiet, Bellatrix!” Voldemort snapped.

He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Harry was under the impression he was beginning to lose his patience with the simpering fangirl.

_And with you, if you do not quiet your thoughts._

_Sorry,_ Harry thought back to the Dark Lord.

“Onto the final order of business while Nagini enjoys her meal,” Voldemort said, turning to Snape once more, “Do the Order suspect anything regarding Harry’s whereabouts?

“The Order is still under the impression that Harry Potter has been kidnapped,” Severus informed Voldemort, “At this present time, they are not considering a rescue mission.”

“Nice,” Harry said dryly.

“Clearly the boy is not as valuable to them as he is to us,” Voldemort said smoothly, “Do they give a reason for this?”

“They do not have a clear enough idea of where we are keeping him, my lord,” answered Severus, “They suspect Malfoy Manor but know that we would outnumber them should they try to launch an attack. They do not think that it is worth the risk. Instead, they are monitoring the places where they believe Potter may go if he were to be released or escape.”

Voldemort leant back in his chair.

“That is useful information. Should we wish to engage them in battle, we would simply need to use Harry as bait,” He remarked.

_Simply? Wow, thanks, Tom._

Voldemort did not let on that he had heard Harry’s thought, but Harry knew he had.

“Battle, my lord?” Severus questioned.

“Yes,” Voldemort said. He surveyed those around the table, “We have spent the past few months in hiding. I believe now that we are at full strength, we ought to show our hand. We cannot crush the Order of the Phoenix in one battle, but we can damage them, we can show them what fear is, and perhaps some will turn to our cause.”

Harry frowned as he listened to Voldemort speak. It wasn’t because he disagreed with what was being said; he was trying to work out what places the Order were watching and expecting him to return to.

“What are the locations of which you speak, Severus?” Voldemort asked.

“The Burrow, the home of the Prewett contingent of the Weasley’s,” Snape said, “Grimmauld Place, the house that Potter inherited when his Godfather, Sirius Black, died. And Privet Drive, the Muggle residence of Potter’s last living family.”

Harry made a face, “Thank you for reminding me of that.”

Voldemort looked from Severus to Harry then tapped his fingers against the table, “Then that is the solution. We shall engage the Order at Privet Drive. The battle will drive them back, and you can have your revenge on the Muggles who abused you in exchange for allowing me to use you as bait.”

Harry weighed that up for a second, then nodded, “Okay, that sounds like a fair deal.”

Voldemort looked around his followers, “We shall act before we seize the Ministry.”

There was silence as Death Eaters nodded or bowed their heads in recognition.

“We will begin preparations in due course,” Voldemort assured them, “Do you have any further news from the Order, Severus?”

“They believe that we have infiltrated the Ministry,” answered Snape.

Albion Avery laughed, “Well, they’ve got one thing right then, eh?”

Voldemort ignored the comment.

“When will the Ministry fall, Yaxley?”

“My lord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse.”

“A task which would have taken Rookwood two days, not two months, if it were not for the fact he is a known Death Eater with a target on his back. It is rather pathetic that you found it so difficult to control someone as weak-willed as Thicknesse,” Voldemort said dryly.

Corban Yaxley looked a little put-out, but he didn’t dare voice this opinion. Antonin Dolohov patted him on the shoulder supportively, and a few other Death Eaters clapped. Augustus was not one of them; he looked like he was struggling to contain an eye roll. Harry bit back a smirk and looked away from his mentor.

“It is a start,” Voldemort agreed, “But Thicknesse is only one man. Our people must surround Scrimgeour before I act. One failed attempt on the Ministers life will set me back a long way.”

“Yes, my lord, that is true,” agreed Yaxley, “But you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact with the Minister himself and the Heads of all other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others.”

“As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest,” Voldemort remarked. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, a terrible shriek sounded from below their feet. Some of the Death Eaters jumped; others just looked down with interest.

“Theodore,” Voldemort remarked, “Have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?”

“Yes, my lord,” Theodore Nott said nervously. As the newest recruit, he was at the bottom of the pile which left him to do the dirtiest and most demeaning jobs for the Dark Lord. The young boy hurried away, and Harry sent a thought in Voldemort’s direction.

_Who are we keeping prisoner?_

_That is no concern of yours._

Harry wasn’t sure why he had expected anything more than that if he was honest.

“As I was about to say,” continued Voldemort, “That concludes our meeting for this evening. Those of you who will be required to assist in the battle against the Order will be called forward when the time comes to hold a strategy meeting. Until then, Gibbon, Higgs, Rowle, Selwyn, Warrington, Weasely, Yaxley and Zabini – keep your true loyalties hidden from your colleagues within the Ministry and place as many of them as you can under Imperius Curses. I want the Ministry to be full of sleepers so that we can overpower it with ease when I choose to act.”

All those who had been addressed nodded and everyone rose from the table. The room gradually began to empty until Harry and Voldemort were the only two people left inside it.

“Who is the prisoner, my lord?” Harry asked.

“Garrick Ollivander,” Voldemort replied, “He will research the connection between our wands when our torture experts can bring him around to the idea. I suspect the fact you are a Horcrux has something to do with it, but we shall find out in due course.”

That made sense, well, it would have done if it wasn’t for the fact that Voldemort was using Dumbledore’s wand now.

“I have a theory about this wand,” Voldemort said. He ran his fingers down the smooth wood, “And Ollivander will test that out as well, once he has come around.”

“Assuming he doesn’t die under torture?” Harry pointed out.

“Do not think to presume that you can question every one of my decisions and not come to regret it, Harry,” Voldemort retorted, “Do you presume that if you merely think the question rather than speak it, I will let you off the hook?”

Harry cringed, in all honesty, the answer was yes, but that wasn’t the answer that Voldemort wanted.

“No, it is not!” Voldemort snapped, “The old man is hardier than you think, and should he die I have a back-up wandmaker. The next time you question my decision, be it in your head or aloud, you will be punished the same way my other followers are.”

“Understood, my lord,” Harry said quietly.

Voldemort sighed and looked into the fire, “That being said, I am grateful that you stayed behind. There is something I wished to discuss with you privately.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Okay?”

“I plan on giving the Potters back their land and title, as a 17th birthday gift to you and as a thank you for your loyalty,” Voldemort said carefully, “How do you feel about that?”

Harry’s eyes widened, “I would be honoured, my lord.”

Voldemort smirked, “I suspected as much. You had best train yourself up on your duelling this week. If you are to be both the bait and the Muggle killer, then you will most certainly be coming with us to fight the Order of the Phoenix. You must be prepared, and capable, of fighting against men and women with far more experience than yourself.”

“I’ll ask Antonin for extra lessons,” Harry promised, “And I will focus and clear my mind before the battle. Thank you, my lord.”

Voldemort waved his hand and Harry understood himself to be dismissed. Another cry of pain came from the dungeon below their feet as Harry left the room, and something about it made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

* * *

Harry had just been beginning to feel confident in his duelling ability. He knew he would struggle against the likes of Kingsley and Moody, but he was pretty sure that he could take Remus in the upcoming battle. During his final practice duel on the day of the strategy meeting, Dolohov knocked that theory out of the water.

The look of horror on Dolohov’s face had nothing to do with any genuine concern for Harry’s welfare. It had everything to do with the fact that he had, albeit inadvertently, just broken the terms of the protection vow that the Dark Lord had placed on him.

Harry didn’t have much time to dwell on it because of the blood he was losing from the cutting curse that had just sliced through his chest. His world had just begun to go black when he felt Voldemort’s anger course through him.

* * *

When Harry came to, his first thought was that he was dead. He couldn’t open his eyes, and everything around him was deathly still.

_You are not dead. You are in a state of temporary paralysis._

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Voldemort’s voice inside his head.

_Are you here? Or are you think-speaking to me from somewhere else?_

Voldemort placed a cool hand on top of Harry’s. He would have jumped if he had been able to. After the initial shock, it was a comfort to know that he was not alone wherever he was.

_Narcissa tended to your wound. Within an hour or so, it will be entirely sealed. At that point, we can lift the paralysis, but until then, we cannot risk you pulling the scar. You must be in good health for the battle tomorrow._

_So I’m an asset. That’s why you’re sitting by my bed._

A soft chuckle sounded from beside his bed, and Harry realised that Voldemort’s hand was still resting above his own.

_I had not realised that a person could think sarcastically until I got inside your head, Harry. Trust me; I do not sit by the beds of people who are simply assets._

_What am I to you then? Sorry if that’s too bold, but we’re literally inside my head right now, and I know you can torture me inside my head but still. God, I even ramble in my head, don’t I?_

_Yes. Get to the point._

Harry would have nodded if he could have done. _You say that I’m the same as all of your other followers, but we both know I’m not. You treat me differently, and some of them have noticed. Gus thinks I’m your favourite, and Bellatrix hates me because she’s jealous, isn’t she?_

Voldemort sighed. It was hard to visualise the expression on his face from his tone of voice, but Harry expected it to be long-suffering.

_You are different because you do not just follow me; you are an extension of me. I treat you differently because I expect great things from you. I push you because I know what you are capable of._

_But you care. You wouldn’t be sitting by my bedside if you didn’t care. I felt your anger just before I passed out. You said you don’t care and that you can’t love, but I don’t think that’s true._

Another long-suffering sigh, _It is true. Do you genuinely believe I did not do any research on the subject?_

_Research doesn’t answer every question, Tom. You were the one who told me that not everyone learns by reading books, and by that same measure, books can’t tell you everything. I know you think you can’t love because you were conceived while your father was under the influence of a love potion, but you didn’t account for me, did you?_

_I have no idea what you are trying to point out here, Harry._

Even when he was talking in Harry’s head, he sounded fed up of Harry’s bullshit.

_I am glad that you picked up on that. Would you care to get to the point?_

_Let me phrase this differently. That ancient dark magic potion you used to bring yourself back in the graveyard? I was a key ingredient, or rather my blood was._

_Yes. Get to the point, **Harry.**_

****

_If I had been a werewolf, you would have taken on the lycanthropy, right?_

_Yes._

_So when you took my blood to bring yourself back, you took on the love sacrifice my mother made for me. She died for me, and that sacrifice runs in my veins, and yours now. So maybe you couldn’t love before, but that’s not to say that you can’t now._

_It is a fanciful theory, but it is just that, Harry._

_You could ask Azriel to look into it; he’s an Unspeakable._

_I could, but I do not want anyone to know about our connection. I have only entrusted two of my followers with the knowledge that I have Horcruxes. I do not want anyone to find out that you are one of them. For now, I will simply allow them to believe that you are my favourite project._

_But it’s more than that._

_Yes. It is. I regard you as a prodigy and perhaps one day as an equal. You are the only other person I can converse with like this. You are the only human I can speak parseltongue with, and that is remarkably freeing._

_You think of me as a son, but you can’t say that. Can you?_

The hand on Harry’s disappeared. He barely heard Voldemort rise to his feet, and when he spoke, it sounded so loud. They had been talking so softly in Harry’s head.

“Rest and prepare yourself for the battle tomorrow. We cannot lose you. You are far too valuable to the war effort.”

The next sound that Harry heard was the door snapping shut behind the Dark Lord.

****

* * *

Harry did not see Voldemort again before the battle. He awoke to Narcissa pottering around by his bed - she gave him one final healing potion and discharged him with a stern, “The others are waiting for you in the war room.”

_Does Malfoy Manor have a war room? Of course, it does. It’s Malfoy fricking Manor._

Harry had no idea where it was, and he hadn’t been smart enough to ask Narcissa, so he was quite glad that he ran into Fitz on the way down.

“Hey, Fitz. You heading to the War Room?”

“Yeah, you lost?” Fitz returned.

Harry nodded, “Totally. Do you know if Antonin is okay?”

“Yeah, he’s alright,” Fitz said offhandedly, “I re-attached his pinky and Narcissa fixed his broken fingers.”

Harry winced, “It was an accident, the Dark Lord knows that, right?”

“Course he does, but he doesn’t like it when people hurt his pets,” Fitz said, grinning mischievously at Harry.

“I’m not his pet,” Harry muttered irritably.

“He treats you the same way he treats his snake,” Fitz said, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry made a face, “No, he doesn’t. Do you know what time we’re heading out today?”

“Nightfall,” Fitz said as he pushed open a heavy wooden door, “So it’s a good thing that you woke up when you did.”

Harry nodded and stepped inside the very crowded room. Almost every Death Eater was inside, all hovering around a grand wooden table with a perfect replica of Privet Drive on it.

“Okay, that’s cool,” Harry said appreciatively, “And Antonin, I’m sorry.”

Dolohov shrugged, “My mistake. I was aiming over your shoulder, and I missed, it’s my bad.”

Harry wanted to say, _yeah but you didn’t deserve to have all of your fingers broken,_ but he didn’t dare voice that opinion.

Someone cleared their throat, so Harry looked up. He had expected to see someone like Augustus leading the briefing – he had not expected to see Pollux standing by the table, looking incredibly impatient.

“If you are quite done?”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly.

“I presume that you recognise this sorry little muggle street, Harry,” Pollux said distastefully, “But you are the only one who does. This is foreign territory to everyone else here so first things first, a little public service announcement. This is a street lamp; if you hit it with a spell, it will explode. Do not fight it because you will be electrocuted.”

Harry bit back an amused smile. He thought Pollux was joking, but most of the other Death Eaters looked like they were listening intently.

“This is a car. If you hit it with a spell, it will roll. Also do not try to destroy it, because it could cause an explosion and kill you.”

Harry looked across the room and caught Azriel’s eye. The Half-blood looked as amused as Harry did by this conversation. Severus Snape was rolling his eyes; his arms crossed over his chest as he lazed against the fireplace.

“Your first port of call will be to put wards up against the Muggles. The last thing you want is for an army of ignorant Muggles to ruin our plan,” Pollux said lazily, “Then you will position yourselves accordingly.”

Pollux snapped his fingers, and little figures appeared in the model of the street. Each with their initials above them, indicating which position each Death Eater should take. They were all dotted around, hidden in alleyways into gardens and the like—all bar one.

“Any questions?”

Harry raised his hand.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why am I standing in the middle of the street like a fucking beacon while everyone else hides?” Harry asked matter of factly.

Pollux looked straight at him, “Because darling, you are as you so eloquently put it, a fucking beacon. You are the bait; we put the bait where the fish can see it. Don’t we?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Did you have to be so condescending?”

“You did ask a stupid question,” Gus pointed out.

“So what are you going to do with this bait?” Harry asked, gesturing at himself.

Pollux smiled in amusement, “You are going to do some acting.”

Harry scoffed, “That’s funny.”

“Do I look like I am joking?” Pollux asked, a hint of danger in his low voice.

“Uh, no,” Harry admitted, “But come on, seriously? _Me?_ You want me to act?”

Pollux hummed in agreement, “You are going to play Harry Potter, the poor little orphaned boy who has been tortured for the past three months. You have by some miracle managed to escape from the big, nasty Death Eaters and have apparated to the first place that popped into your mind, your Aunt and Uncles house where you would normally be at this time of year.”

Harry scoffed but said nothing more on that subject.

“Your arrival will set off wards placed by the Order of the Phoenix,” Pollux continued, “A couple of representatives will appear to investigate the disturbance. You will play the victim; you will say that you escaped but that you still have the trace on you so that they can track you. You will beg them to call for re-enforcements before the Death Eaters show up.”

Harry’s eyes shone with realisation as he realised where Pollux was going with this.

“When those re-enforcements arrive, the Death Eaters will reveal their presence. Thereby encircling and presumably outnumbering, the Order of the Phoenix,” Pollux finished, clicking his fingers and blasting all of the Order of the Phoenix figurines off of the board.

“Effective, but a tad dramatic, Pollux,” Lucius drawled.

“Says the man who breeds pea _cocks_?” Pollux returned, enunciating the last part of the word and winking at the blonde man.

Draco made a face, and muttered to Harry, “How many days until we go back to school?”

“Not too many,” Harry returned, shooting Draco an amused smile.

“So,” Pollux said loudly, “Harry, to play the poor, tortured orphaned boy, we’re going to have to make you look like one again.”

Harry sighed, he figured that meant a glamour to make him look shorter and old battered glasses.

“The Dark Lord understands that the protection vow he swore on Harry has its limitations and this is one of them,” Pollux continued, “So that being said, someone needs to go to town on Harry. Any volunteers?”

Several hands went up, and Harry snorted, “No honour amongst Death Eaters, huh?”

Pollux shot Harry an amused look, “Bella, Rodolphus, Rabastan – no. I do not trust you not to kill the boy.”

Bellatrix looked put out by this, but the Lestrange brothers cocked their heads in agreement. Harry was pleased to see that not everyone had put their hand up, Antonin hadn’t, he probably didn’t want to risk losing any more fingers. Augustus, Azriel and Samson hadn’t raised their hands either though.

“Ah, Fitz,” Pollux said with a nod, “You will do nicely. Use your knife then get a couple of punches in.”

“Wow, thanks,” Harry said dryly, “Why can’t you just put a glamour on me to make me look like I’ve been beaten up?”

“Because certain wards can remove glamours,” Augustus replied.

“Precisely,” Pollux agreed, “There’s a chance they won’t notice your growth spurt, but they will find it odd that you emerged from months of torture looking so immaculate.”

“Immaculate?” Harry asked, quirking up an eyebrow, “Why, thank you, Pollux.”

He could hear Draco choking back a chuckle at his side.

Pollux rolled his eyes, “Fitz, whenever you wish?”

Fitz grinned and clapped his hands, “Come on, pretty boy. It’s time to dirty you up a little.”

Harry grimaced as Fitz led him out of the room, “Did you have to make that sound so suggestive?”

With another grin, Fitz returned, “It’s part of my appeal.”

*** TBC ***


	10. Burned Another Branch on the Family Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Privet Drive takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> War on a Desperate Man by Eli Young Band.

Harry couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he was fine. The moment he apparated onto Privet Drive, his heart began to pound, and his hands began to sweat. He was a terrible actor, and he would have to lie straight to the faces of people he had once loved, of people who might still care about him. They wouldn’t still care if they knew what he had done, though.

He stood there, looking at the lights that were on inside 4 Privet Drive. All the curtains were closed, but the Dursleys were in there. Harry sighed and waited for the tell-tale crack of apparition. When the Order members got here, they would undoubtedly be able to tell that he looked the part. His glasses were back on; he was back to his old, short stature, he wore Muggle clothes and, thanks to Fitz, he looked very authentically black and blue.

**CRACK.**

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Harry!”

“Harry?”

One of the voices behind him sounded relieved and the other, anxious.

Harry turned around and tried to smile at them, “I…I…escaped.”

“Of course you did,” Remus said softly, his eyes moving over Harry.

Arthur stood by his side. He looked a little warier than Remus did and if Harry was honest, that wasn’t the way round he would have expected.

Remus moved towards him, but Harry held up a hand, “Stop!”

The werewolf stopped in his tracks.

“It was too easy,” Harry said quietly, “I escaped, and I apparated to the first place that popped into my head, but I think it’s a trap. Snape is a traitor; he killed Dumbledore.”

“We know,” Arthur said, “He fled Hogwarts the night that Dumbledore died.”

“I think he’s been feeding information to Voldemort,” Harry said, “I think they wanted me to escape so they could follow me here.”

A rustle sounded in a bush, and both men drew their wands. Harry made no such movement. The sound turned out to be a cat, it slunk out from the bush, stretched and carried on across the street.

"Do you have a wand?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head, “No, they took it when they grabbed me from Hogwarts. Listen, you need to call re-enforcements. If they are going to follow me, then they will already know I’m here.”

“But Harry-” Remus said, taking another step towards him.

“No, don’t!” Harry said, and he was surprised by how good his acting was in that moment, “I don’t know what they did to me, Remus. I feel cursed, I feel like they’re just using me as a weapon so don’t get too close, please.”

Remus swallowed and nodded, “But the moment we get you home, Harry, we will make this okay. I can’t imagine what you have been through, but we will get through it together.”

_You and your new wife?_ Harry thought bitterly. But he pushed that thought down and gave Remus a small nod.

Remus raised his wand, and Arthur grabbed his wrist. He very quietly spoke to Remus, but Harry had always had excellent hearing to make up for his terrible sense of sight.

“Remus, I do not need to tell you that this could be a trap.”

“Of course it is, Harry has told us as much.”

Arthur’s eyes darkened, “No, Remus. Harry could be under an imperius curse; this could be a plan to lure the Order here and wipe us out.”

Remus sighed and turned to Harry.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but this is a necessary evil.”

Harry knew what he was going to do, and he began to panic. If he removed all enchantments, he would notice Harry’s sudden growth spurt. Then an idea struck him. Remus raised his wand and said, “Finite Incantatem!” and Harry fell to his knees, clutching his scar and pretending that it had begun to hurt.

“Harry!” Remus exclaimed.

“He’s angry!” Harry said breathily. By Merlin, he _was_ a good actor, “He knows I’m gone! They’re coming!”

“Call the Order!” Arthur said hastily.

Remus summoned a Patronus and did so. Harry remained on the ground, kneeling and cradling his head. He moaned in pain and wondered what he looked like to the Death Eaters right now; he was sure there was at least one chuckling under their breath at his antics.

It didn’t take long for the Order to arrive. The moment the cracks began, Harry rose to his feet and pulled his wand out of his back pocket.

Arthur noticed before Remus did.

“Remus,” Arthur said frantically, his wand on Harry instantly.

Harry should have felt guilty. Remus Lupin had been his mentor long before Gus, he had been his professor, he had been a father figure to him, and Arthur Weasley had done him no wrong. He had taken him in when he needed it the most.

But Harry’s recent proficiency in Occlumency made sure that he felt nothing of the sort. He smirked and said, “Sorry, I kinda lied.”

Arthur fired a stunning spell at him, which he shielded with an incredibly quick, powerful, “ _Protego!”_

The Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, and the Order quickly released that not only were they outnumbered, but that the Death Eaters had also encircled them.

Mundungus Fletcher tried to apparate away, but nothing happened, and a masked Death Eater that Harry knew to be Travers laughed.

“Sorry Dung, Anti-Disapparition Jinx. Can’t have you lot getting away without a fight, can we?”

Mundungus looked positively terrified at that. The Death Eater threw a cutting curse at him, and all around them, duels began. For the most part, Harry managed to stay out of it by ducking away the moment Arthur took his eye off him to duel Augustus. He played the role of the seeker, he remained on the outskirts and watched for any stray spells heading towards his men.

He managed to deflect a few stunners heading for the less able Death Eaters, but the cutting curse that Tonks had just hit Rodolphus with had been unshieldable. Harry slipped a portkey into his pocket and activated it, sending him straight back to Malfoy Manor where he knew Narcissa was awaiting the injured.

This forced him into action.

“Harry?!” Ron asked incredulously from where he had been fighting next to Tonks.

Harry cast a strong shield around himself, “Hi Ron, long time no see. Are you enjoying a summer where you don’t have to pretend to be my friend?”

Ron pretended to feign innocence, “What are you talking about, mate? I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Harry laughed, “No, you aren’t. Your mother must be so upset that Dumbledore is dead. Nobody to pay her anymore, is there? What did he claim it was for, for putting Harry up in the summers? Not for going along with his little plan?”

Ron’s eyes darkened, “So you’re on his side now?”

Harry’s eyes flashed, “I am.”

“Ron,” Tonks said carefully, “You don’t want to make him any angrier than he already is. Harry is a Death Eater now; he will have all of Voldemort’s knowledge at his disposal.”

Harry grinned, “Listen to the Auror, Ronnikons,” he said before throwing a lethal entrail-expelling curse at Ron.

Tonks pushed him out of the way and threw a fireball at Harry. He ducked, and it lit up a bush in Aunt Petunia’s garden. Oh, she would have been so upset about that if she had a chance to mourn her hydrangeas. But Harry wouldn’t give her that chance.

Harry then found himself engaged in a duel with Tonks, and he had to admit, it was no walk in the park. She was an Auror and a good one at that. Harry almost had her when a scream from behind distracted him. He ducked out of the way of her cutting curse and threw up a shield charm. Then he doused the bush and the Death Eater in it with magical water.

Harry removed the mask and realised it was Travers. The mask had protected his face, but his body was severely burned. Harry wrinkled his nose up, all he could smell was burnt flesh, and how Travers wasn’t screaming in pain, he had no idea.

Somebody threw a spell at Harry’s back, but he deflected it with a flick of his wand.

“Harry, do you need cover?”

Harry recognised the voice. He turned and nodded, but didn’t say Azriel’s name. As of yet, nobody knew he was a Death Eater, and it had to stay that way. It was different for Harry; the Dark Lord had decided it was time for everyone to discover his true loyalties.

Azriel stood guard over them, and Harry cast a basic healing charm that would stop the open burns getting infected then he pulled a portkey out of his robes and placed it on Travers's chest.

“Narcissa will look after you, Tristan,” Harry murmured then he spoke the password, and the portkey whisked Travers away.

“How are we doing?” Harry asked, getting to his feet and surveying the carnage ahead.

“We lost Albert,” Azriel replied, “Cutting curse to the neck from Shacklebolt. He was getting old; he didn’t deflect in time.”

A spell flew through the air and Harry recognised it as Sectumsempra. George swerved to avoid it but didn’t quite manage, and it scuffed the side of his head, slicing his ear clean off. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound on the side of his head.

“George!” Fred yelled, running to his brother's side without any protective enchantments.

Harry sighed at the Weasley’s stupidity, “What about the opposition?”

“Two down,” Azriel replied, “Dolohov killed Podmore, and I think Travers took Mundungus out before the Mudblood blasted him into that bush.”

Harry’s heart sank, _Mudblood, Hermione._ Duelling her would hurt, more than having to fight Ron had.

A loud, feral growl distracted them both and drew their eyes to Fred and George. Greyback had just launched himself at Fred who was effectively, a sitting duck, as he tended to George with no one to watch his back.

Harry grimaced when the werewolf seized him; he thought he would surely rip Fred apart. Voldemort had kept him caged for weeks, he was probably desperate for a kill, but he had become insane and cannibalistic as of late, so letting him roam freely had not been an option.

The one thing that they didn’t account for was Arthur, and what he would do for his children.

A cutting curse flew through the air and sliced Greyback’s head clean off. It rolled away, eyes agog while his body slumped over Fred’s. Arthur pushed it aside, and Bill had his back while he sealed George’s wound and tried to slow Fred’s bleeding.

“Well, as losses go, that’s not such a bad one,” Azriel pointed out.

“He was completely feral,” Harry agreed.

At that point, Azriel branched off, having seen that Samson was struggling against Mad-Eye Moody. Harry scanned the battle for Hermione, and when he saw her, his heart stopped. She was pointing her wand at Fitz, Harry recognised him despite the mask – that curly mop of hair couldn’t belong to anyone else.

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Hermione’s back. He cleared his mind and said, “Sectum-” He had a tiny doubt, “-sempra!”

The spell didn’t take, and Hermione uttered a curse. A flash of red light hit Fitz, and he fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Whatever Hermione had done was bad, Harry knew that much. He knew what it took to make Fitz cry out in pain; he was made of tough stuff.

Harry ran through the battle under a shield charm, throwing cutting curses around as he did so. When he got close enough, he yelled, “Mulciber!”

Fitz looked up and gave Harry a small nod.

Harry threw a portkey at him, and Fitz caught it. The other Death Eater mumbled the password and disappeared, just as Travers had.

Hermione looked at Harry in disbelief, “I can’t believe you would do this.”

“I can’t believe you would conspire against me with Dumbledore, but here we are,” Harry said dryly, “And I do not want to duel you so just step aside.”

_Step aside._ Harry’s heart sank. That was what Voldemort had said to his mother that night – _step aside, you silly girl._

He supposed he was an extension of the Dark Lord himself.

Hermione glared at him, “Well, _I_ want to duel _you_.”

Harry scoffed and barely had to try, “ _Stupefy_!”

“ _Protego!”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

_“Stupefy!”_

The stunner hit her in the chest, and Harry muttered, “Defence Against the Dark Arts always was your weakest subject, Hermione.”

He turned around and saw that Moody had moved on from his duel against Azriel and Samson. He had just turned and pointed his wand at Augustus’s back while he was engaged in a duel with Remus. He could see the words forming on Moody’s lips and to hell with that; Harry wasn’t going to let another friend get hurt because he couldn’t get his words out properly.

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_

The green light lit up the street and hit Moody before he could finish his spell. The Auror fell to the ground, and there was a temporary break in the fighting as everyone realised whose wand that spell had come from, whose voice had uttered those words.

Augustus looked over at Pollux who had remained on the sidelines for the entire battle. He was a strategist, not a fighter. Pollux gave a small nod which they knew to mean – enough; the Order had learned their lesson. They knew now that the Death Eaters outnumbered them, they knew they could not win.

Augustus pointed his wand at the sky and said, “ _Finite Incantatem!”_

The wards rained down, including the Anti-Disaparation Jinx. The moment the wards were down, Pollux pointed his wand at the sky and cried, “ _Morsmordre_.”

The Dark Mark lit up the sky, and the Order retreated instantly.

When they were gone, Pollux exclaimed, “Good job, everyone! A solid victory, the Dark Lord will be very pleased. Nott Senior, take Albert’s body home and inform his family of his passing. Crabbe, Goyle – clean up duty, please. Get this street back to normal before the ignorant Muggles awake. Rookwood, stay here with Harry in case he needs assistance killing his Muggle family. Everyone else, you may leave.”

Cracks filled the air more, and within seconds, the street was virtually empty. Harry looked towards the door of number 4, hatred building inside of him as he did so.

“What on earth is going on here?” A familiar, old voice said.

Harry rolled his eyes and cast a killing curse over his shoulder. The green light flashed, the body hit the ground, and Harry said, “You can be with all of your dead cats now, you crazy old bat.”

“Old friend of yours?” Augustus joked.

Harry shook his head, “I’m not in the mood for humour, Gus. I’m in the mood for revenge.”

Augustus motioned at the door, “Go on, then.”

Harry’s eyes glinted with malice that he hadn’t known he was capable of up until recently. He opened the door with a simple, “ _Alohomora,”_ then he waited for them to come to him. Surely enough, the intrusion brought them all into the hall, and their eyes widened in fear and alarm when they saw Harry.

“ _Petrficus Totalus!”_ Harry cried, hitting Dudley first then turning on Petunia.

Vernon launched himself at Harry in a fury, but Gus held up one hand and put up a barrier between Harry and his Uncle.

“ _Petrificus Totatlus!”_

Aunt Petunia was immobilised like her son.

Harry turned to Vernon with unadulterated fury in his eyes. He raised his wand, Gus dropped the shield, and Harry yelled, “ _Imperio!”_

Vernon stopped lunging. His eyes became unfocused, and he swayed.

“Get in the car,” Harry commanded in a low tone of voice.

Vernon walked, rather zombie-like out of the house. He unlocked the car and got into the driver's seat. Harry levitated Aunt Petunia into the vehicle, and Gus did the same with Dudley. Once they were in, he shut the doors and looked through the open driver’s window at Vernon.

“I want you to know that this is _all_ your fault. You brought this upon yourselves by not being able to treat me like a human being. I never asked you to love me, I never asked you to care about me, but to treat me like a slave? Like nothing more than a piece of dirt on your shoe? That is what got you in this position,” Harry said, his voice dripping with venom, “I was a baby when I got left on your doorstep, and beyond keeping me alive, you did _nothing_ for me. So when you die, I want you to die feeling as terrified as I did every single time you locked me in my cupboard for something I couldn’t control, for something I didn’t even understand!”

Harry glared into the back of the car at Petunia and Dudley; their eyes were wide with fear. _Good, that’s how you deserve to die._ He turned back to Vernon and said, “You are going to drive this car until you get to the Sidlow Bridge. Then you will rev the shit out of this piece of crap and drive it off the bridge into the River Mole. At that point, all of my enchantments are going to end, and you will spend the last few minutes of your life terrified as you try to get out of this car, to no avail. There are permanent locking charms on the doors. Not even the Muggle authorities will be able to open them to get your corpses out once they have fished you out of the river.”

Harry’s voice was low but dangerous as he finished, “And in case you’re wondering why I’m doing this to you? Why I think you deserve to die in this fashion? Well, the answer is relatively simple. It comes from something I heard far too many times as a kid from your vile mouths.”

He glared into the car at them all, “ _Your parents went and got themselves killed in a crash, and we got landed with you.”_

The fear in Vernon’s eyes was incredibly satisfying. Harry took a step back, “Start the engine.”

Vernon was weak-minded, and Harry’s magic was powerful - he couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard he tried. Vernon started the engine, his hand shaking all the while.

“Go,” Harry practically spat. He took a step back and let out a contented breath as the car drove away from Privet Drive for the last time.

Augustus put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Time to head home, kid?”

Harry just nodded in agreement, “Yeah.”

* * *

When Harry got back to Malfoy Manor that night, he went straight to his room. He had a long bath as everything that he had done sank in. The Dursleys would be dead by now, and they had put the Order in their place. It was a victory and a damn good one too. Albert Rosier had been collateral damage, but they had won, so why did he feel empty?

_Because it was a Pyrrhic victory._

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn’t even surprised when Voldemort’s voice popped into his head, as clearly as if he had been sitting right next to him.

_Whatever that is, it feels horrible,_ Harry thought.

_A Pyrrhic victory is a victory that inflicts such a devastating toll on the victor that it is tantamount to defeat._ Voldemort’s voice was soft and quiet, even in his head. _Someone who wins a Pyrrhic victory has been victorious in some way. However, the heavy toll negates any sense of achievement or profit._

Harry swallowed, _So it’s a hollow victory?_

_Indeed, and in your case, it has left you feeling an immense sense of guilt._

Harry couldn’t argue with that, _I hate it, the guilt…the remorse._

_It fades, over time. Eventually, you forget what it feels like all together._

Harry wondered where Voldemort was, for the first time he wondered, _what’s the range on this thing? You’re not standing outside the bathroom, are you?_

_No, Harry. Our souls are linked; there is no limit to the range. We could be on opposite sides of the world and still hear each other this clearly._

_How? I mean, you can’t hear my thoughts all of the time. Can you?_

_No, but we allow each other in, albeit accidentally when one of us feels something very acutely—anger in my case and guilt in yours._

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at the bathroom ceiling. _Why isn’t Occlumency working anymore? I feel like the more guilt I lock away, the more it bleeds through._

_Perhaps you need more lessons. I will have Severus talk to you again soon, but for now, try to remember that we won and that you are responsible for disposing of a great Auror, someone who could have been a deadly foe._

Harry nodded to himself.

_Do not forget that, because I will not._

_I know,_ Harry thought back, and it was true. Voldemort was good to those who were good to him, and he followed through on his promises and threats.

_Do not feel like you have to relish in the pain that you inflict. Very few people do. The Lestrange’s are among them; they inflict pain simply because they enjoy it, but others maim and kill because there is no other choice. You showed that you were capable of terrible things tonight, but you also saved Rookwood. You got Travers home in time for Narcissa to save his life. You patched Rodolphus Lestrange up and brought him home, a man you hate and owe nothing to. More good deeds were done by your wand tonight than bad ones, Harry._

Harry wanted to believe that, but he couldn’t.

_I made my uncle drive himself and his family off a bridge out of spite. Don’t paint me as the hero, Tom. I’m not that person anymore. I’m a person who will do whatever it takes to get revenge and to win. The humanity that brought me here…it’s gone now._

_If that were true, then why the guilt, Harry?_

Harry frowned. He didn’t know how to answer that question; he didn’t know if he could.

_You do not have to. There will be a meeting tomorrow evening, and after that, I must leave the country to attend to some business. I will be back before your birthday. Tell Narcissa what you wish to do, and she will make the necessary arrangements._

_Like a party?_ Harry thought in surprise.

_Yes, Harry. A Wizard only turns seventeen once. It is a significant turning point in your life, and it deserves to be celebrated._

Harry had no idea what he wanted to do for his birthday. He figured that Voldemort had stopped nosing into his thoughts, because he said nothing more on the subject, leaving Harry to think through some ideas while adding more hot water to his bath.

* * *

The day after the battle, Harry made himself comfortable in the morning room with a croissant and a cup of coffee. He was enjoying the quiet when Lucius stepped in.

“Ah, Potter,” He drawled, “I see that you are no longer confined to your room. Has the Dark Lord decided that you are a big boy now?”

Harry shot Lucius an exasperated look, “I was far more useful than you were last night, Lucius. I killed Mad-Eye Moody, and I got Tristan, Rodolphus and Fitz back home. I didn’t see you at all, were you even there or were you too busy tending to your peacocks?”

Lucius swept his cloak behind him and sat down opposite Harry, “You are far too bold for a new recruit. I doubt you will last the year.”

Harry smiled sweetly at him, “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Harry as he smirked at the newspaper in his hand.

“Why are you reading a Muggle newspaper?” The elder Malfoy asked distastefully.

“Just admiring my handiwork,” Harry answered, placing the newspaper down on the table and sipping his coffee.

**“HUSBAND COMMITS SUICIDE, KILLING WIFE AND SON.”**

Lucius scanned the article then picked up his own cup of coffee, “You had your Uncle drive his family off a bridge?”

Harry hummed, “I did, yes.”

“Might I ask why? I can appreciate the dramatics, I am rather fond of them myself after all,” Lucius confessed.

Harry snorted in response, “I hadn’t noticed,” he said sarcastically.

Lucius fixed him with a stern look, “Why not simply kill them with the killing curse? Why so, whimsical?”

Harry put his cup of coffee down, “They didn’t tell me I was a wizard. They knew why strange things kept happening when I was scared or upset, but they didn’t tell me. I had no idea who my parents were, all my aunt and uncle told me was that they had died in a car crash. When I woke up at night from nightmares with a flash of green light and the sound of a motorbike revving, I could still hear the screams of my parents in my ears and those _muggles,_ they told me not to talk about the dreams, not to ask about my parents.”

Lucius’s eyes softened. He nodded, “In that case, I admire your work. Karma is, as they say, a bitch.”

Harry was surprised by that response. He knew that Narcissa was incredibly sympathetic and that Draco was more of a lover than a fighter when it came to his stance as a Death Eater. But Harry had always thought of Lucius as a cruel, vindictive, even abusive man.

“You are surprised that I show some empathy?” Lucius asked, his eyes boring into Harry’s, “I can understand why because to most, I am not a kind man. But I never have, and I will never, lay a hand on my wife or my son.”

Harry leant back and surveyed him, “You are a man of honour? Well, that does surprise me, and not because you were in Slytherin either. I have spent enough time here to realise that many Death Eaters are men of honour, but I did not expect to see it from you.”

“People are full of surprises, Potter,” Lucius said with a smirk – Merlin, he could see where Draco got it from. The charm, the smoothness, the suave way of saying things.

“Indeed,” Harry mused as he cast his eyes back down to the newspaper.

* * *

The meeting that evening was short and sweet. Voldemort congratulated them all on the success of the battle. Then he announced that he would be attending to business out of the country for a few days. He instructed certain people to plan Albert’s funeral while he was gone.

The funeral would be on the 30th of July, and Harry’s birthday celebrations would take place the following day.

Voldemort saved the best part of the announcement until the end of the meeting, however. He leant back in his chair and smirked, “It shall be an extraordinary August Eve this year.”

Harry frowned and flicked through his memory to try and remember what August Eve was. Then he remembered a section from a book Gus had made him read about old traditions. August Eve, or Lammas as it was sometimes referred to. It took place on the 1st of August, and it was a festival of thanksgiving.

“We will have much to give thanks for,” Voldemort continued, “For it is the day that we shall seize the Ministry of Magic.”

A gasp went around the table, and this was swiftly followed by clapping and cheering.

Voldemort raised a hand to silence them, “Those involved are aware of the role they must play in this, and we shall discuss it further at a later date. For now, you are dismissed.”

They could all tell that Voldemort was not in a mood to be argued with, so they left the table as swiftly as possible. Harry gave him a nod and thought. _Good luck with your business abroad._

Voldemort returned the nod, _I expect you to feed Nagini in my absence._

Harry frowned, _What does she eat?_

Voldemort looked at Harry cynically, _You are a parseltongue. It will not be difficult for you to find out._

Fair point, Harry thought idly. He then left the dining room before getting himself in trouble because Voldemort was in a foul mood despite the good news that he had just delivered to his followers.

He walked out into the entrance hall and planned on heading straight up to the library to get some extra studying done before bed, but something caught his eye before he could do so. Across the hall, he spotted Samson Weasley leaving the Manor in a hurry, glancing behind him as he did so.

Harry slipped out after him and took a shortcut through the maze where Lucius kept his peacocks. He emerged right in front of Samson by the gates and pulled his wand on him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Samson raised an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Harry asked quietly, “You look shifty as hell and that got me wondering why. The Dark Lord has announced that we will take the Ministry which is good news, especially regarding the Order of the Phoenix. When we take control, we will know the location of their homes which will break any enchantments on them.”

Samson kept his eyes on Harry’s.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’ve got a damn good poker face,” Harry admitted, “But the only reason you’ve got for how shifty you looked back then is that you’re thinking of warning one of your cousins.”

“Why would I warn those blood traitors?” Samson asked coldly.

Harry shot him a sceptical look, “Because they are your family and I’m willing to bet that you actually like some of them. I get it, I mean I want to kill your Aunt Molly for helping Dumbledore manipulate me and your cousin Ron is a great big bag of dicks. Don’t even get me started on Ginny, but the rest of them are somewhere close to being decent human beings. But are they worth dying for? Because warning them _will_ get you killed, or worse, it will get Kaira or your children killed.”

Samson’s resolve broke. He looked around and lowered his voice, “The 1st of August is Bill’s wedding day, alright? The Burrow is going to be full of people, including _my family_. My parents will be there, my little brother Humphrey will be there. I’m supposed to be there, and I doubt the Dark Lord will grant me a holiday request to attend the wedding of someone on the opposite side.”

Harry cocked his head, “Yes, you’re more likely to get a killing curse to the chest than a solid yes to that one. You can warn your father and your brother, tell them not to go.”

Samson gave Harry a desperate look, “I just want to give him fair warning, Harry.”

Harry sighed, “In that case, we need to turn it into a positive thing for the Dark Lord, or he’ll kill all of them, and both of us out of spite.”

Samson frowned, “What are you thinking?”

“We need to be able to put it to the Dark Lord in a particular way,” Harry pointed out.

“We need to be able to tell him that we warned your cousin as a gesture of goodwill and that the gesture of goodwill led to him swearing under an unbreakable vow that he will join us at the next initiation ceremony. That would please the Dark Lord because he knows as well as all of us that Fawley is fucking useless. Bill is a far better Curse Breaker, and it would also solve the issue with Fawley screwing his way around the barely legal daughters of our fellow Death Eaters.”

“There is no way Uncle Arthur would let him turn,” Samson said quietly.

“He’s his own man,” Harry reminded Samson, “And he’s about to get married to a part-Veela who, I don’t know if you’ve met her, is as stunning as she is brilliant. She’s the daughter of one of the most influential pureblood politicians in France and the granddaughter of the Chieftainess of the French Veela. But your Uncle Arthur is too oblivious to realise that, and your Aunt Molly just doesn’t like her because she’s French - she’s stubborn, she’s bold, and she stands up to Molly unlike everyone else in that fucking family.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?” Samson asked with interest.

“Here was me thinking you were meant to be quick on the uptake, for a Weasley,” Harry said sarcastically.

Samson scoffed, “Don’t tar me with the same brush as them. The minute Molly Prewett hoodwinked my Uncle Arthur; there was no hope for that branch of the family. At the time it was meant to be a good deal, a union between a Prewett and a Weasley would bring the family prestige. Poor Aunt Molly when she discovered she’d married the wrong Weasley though - she’d got the muggle loving fool while my father, the head of the family, the Slytherin who everyone said would amount to nothing? He married a muggle-born, and now he’s Chief Warlock. Sweet Salazar, she must be seething with rage, if she had a time-turner…”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Hoodwinked?”

“Love potions, she’s quite an expert at brewing them,” explained Samson.

Harry felt sick. Molly. It hadn’t been Hermione at all. Molly had shown Ginny how to brew the love potion that she had duped him with and Hermione…oh fuck, Hermione was innocent in all of this; she was just stuck in the middle.

“Well, as sorry as I am for Arthur about the whole situation, that doesn’t help us in the here and now, Samson,” Harry pointed out, “If you want to keep your cousin alive, we have to convince him to add one more tattoo to the mix.”

Samson nodded, “Yeah. I haven’t met his hot French wife-to-be, but you have. So what do you think her take is going to be on this?”

Harry shrugged, “The Delacours supported Grindelwald in his rise to power and the Veelas despised him so it could go either way, to be honest.”

“Great,” Samson muttered dryly.

“But Fleur has a brain, a very good one,” Harry added, “And an excellent head for politics. It’s why she and Bill are so well-matched. If anything, I think she might help _us_ convince _him_.”

Samson nodded, “Alright. Look, I know where he’ll be. He’s got a flat in London, but if we’re doing this…we should do it now while the Dark Lord is leaving the country.”

“I agree,” Harry said, trying to shield his thoughts so as not to arouse suspicion with Voldemort. Hopefully, his preparations to leave the country would distract him from whatever Harry was running around doing.

*** TBC ***


	11. You Better Know What You're Fighting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Samson attempt to get a crucial Curse Breaker on their side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab.

Bill was a cautious man; he had been that way for a very long time. Long before the war, long before the Order of the Phoenix. He was a Curse Breaker; he didn’t trust objects, spells, wards, and especially not graveyards. By extension, he didn’t trust people implicitly unless they were very close to him.

As such, he did not immediately answer the door when a knock sounded on it late at night.

“Whose there?” Bill called instead.

“It’s me, your cousin, Sam.”

Bill paused, “Sam? I’ve not seen you in months, mate.”

“I know, I’m just here to drop off your wedding gift,” Samson’s voice said, “I can’t make it to the big event, sorry.”

Bill used his wand to scan the door. An invisible force-shield around it momentarily flashed green. This was a special kind of ward, it gauged a person's intent, and if it were true and not harmful, it would allow them access.

“Bill,” Fleur’s voice said from another room, “What is happening?”

“It’s just my cousin Sam,” Bill called back to his fiancé. He took a step back from the door, unlocked it and said, “It’s open!”

The door opened, and Samson stepped in, but Bill’s wand was on the other man when he realised that he wasn’t alone. Harry stepped in after Samson and lowered the hood on his black cloak.

“You son of a bitch,” Bill hissed, “Who the fuck do you think you are, showing up here? After what you did to Fred and George? To Moody! You lured us there and _you_ ,” he turned to Samson, “I knew you were a Death Eater, I bloody knew it!”

“Bill,” Harry sighed, “You’re a typical Weasley, always jumping to conclusions.”

Samson raised an eyebrow at Harry, “What part of don’t tar us all with the same brush as the Prewett Weasley’s did you not understand?”

“Sorry, Sam,” Harry said offhandedly.

“Look, Bill. You’re not stupid; in fact, you’re brilliant. You obviously have an intent ward on that door, so you know that neither of us is here to harm you,” he was temporarily distracted by something over Bill’s shoulder.

“Ah Fleur, hello. Long time, no see, right? Don’t bother trying to charm me with the Veela thing; I’ve been trained by the Dark Lords imperius specialist himself, I could probably resist mind control even if it came from the big man himself.”

Fleur stepped into the room properly, out of the shadows, “I would like to say that it is good to see you again, Harry but not under these circumstances. You are a nobleman, even now, are you not? Do you feel no remorse over what your actions have done to our family?”

“ _Your_ family,” Harry pointed out, moving his finger between Bill, Fleur and Samson, “Not my family. I know your mother was desperate for me to marry into it, but I’m not under the influence of your sisters love potion anymore, Bill. And do you know what the first thing I realised was? I don’t even like redheads; they remind me too much of my mother. I prefer blondes,” he finished with a wink in Fleur's direction.

“As much as I want to throttle you right now,” Bill ground out, “You’re obviously here for a reason so spit it out and then get out.”

“I’m sure you think the 1st of August is a nice day for a white wedding, it’s August Eve, it’s a time for thanks and all that,” Harry said with a wave of his hand, “The trouble is, the Dark Lord also celebrates the festival and his way of giving thanks is a little different to yours. Less wedding, more taking over the Ministry, getting the addresses of all of the Order members houses and sending Death Eaters to slaughter them.”

Samson glared at him, “Harry, do you think you could shut the fuck up and let us talk for five minutes?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Fine, but hurry up and get to the point. We don’t have time for any typical Weasley small-talk.”

Samson looked at his cousin, “The Dark Lord has infiltrated the Ministry and will be initiating the takeover on the 1st of August. One of the first departments to go was the Department of Magical Transportation. He has all of the information, Bill, he just wants to launch a multi-pronged attack because it looks good. It shows how much power we have, how many men we have at our disposal. We can take the Ministry and attack a dozen houses all at the same time and because it’s your wedding day - not that he knows about that obviously – there are going to be a lot of Order members at your house.”

“So you came here to warn me?” Bill asked in disbelief, “What do you want me to do? Delay the wedding? Cancel the wedding?”

“No,” Samson replied quickly, “You have to carry on as normal because otherwise, they will catch on, and you _will_ get killed. At least this way, you are prepared.”

Bill looked at him in disbelief. He shook his head, “Who the fuck are you, Sammy? Because you’re sure as hell not the kid I grew up with. I know there was a house divide, you in Slytherin and me in Gryffindor but we never let it get in the way of our friendship. Did we? We studied together all the time, had a laugh when we played against each other at Quidditch. Seven years we were at Hogwarts together, and I look at you now…I can’t understand how this is what you’ve become.”

“Because as much as you don’t want to see it right now, Bill, it makes sense,” Samson said firmly, “I am still me, I’m still the same person I have always been. I don’t run around torturing and killing people for fun, I just fight for what I believe in, and I don’t think you’re too far away from me in those beliefs. Our traditional values should not be pushed aside for Muggles, and you know that! There was no way it was Uncle Arthurs idea to have the wedding on August Eve, was it?”

“No,” Fleur said quietly, “It was mine. William, you know that my family have always been traditionalist. My father has always pushed the French ministry towards a more traditional outlook which was why he and Dumbledore never agreed. You remember the way most of my classmates viewed him during the Triwizard Tournament, don’t you?”

“Not in high regard,” Bill admitted.

“I forgot you met your future wife when she was still a schoolgirl,” Harry retorted sarcastically from the fireplace.

Fleur turned to look at Harry. She did not glare; she simply gave him a stern look, “You do not want to play this game with me, Harry. You were not perfect that year, you have been flawed, and you have fought darkness for a long time - I know that.”

Harry sighed and motioned at her, “Carry on then.”

Fleur turned away from him to look at her fiancé, “France and England do not see eye to eye on the Muggle problem. If a witch or wizard were to marry a Muggle in France, the Head of the family would have no choice but to disown them by law. Muggles are ignorant, they dilute the magic in our blood, and the only way to fix the problem is to entice Muggle-borns into marrying purebloods to breed out the muggle blood and restore the family to their former magical power.”

Harry clapped his hands, “Yes! I knew you had good taste, Bill, that is a woman with a good head on her shoulders. Marry her right now.”

“Harry, if you don’t shut up, I will silence you,” Samson said irritably, “I don’t care if you’re the Dark Lords favourite pet or prodigy or toy, I will fucking do it.”

Harry raised his hands, “Prodigy, by the way. Not pet, definitely not toy.”

Samson gave him a warning glare, and Harry smirked but remained silent.

“Look, I get what you’re saying, Sam,” Bill said honestly, “I do and don’t get me wrong, I’m not a Muggle lover. I’ve seen what they do to sacred magical places. They break into tombs with no regard; they unleash curses that become deep-rooted in the DNA, killing hundreds of people needlessly all because of their damn curiosity. They desecrate places that should not be touched by those without magical blood, but I can’t kill them in cold blood as the Death Eaters do.”

“We do view Muggles as dispensable,” Samson agreed, “I won’t lie to you about that, Bill.”

“And neither will I,” Harry said thoughtfully, “I vowed when I joined the Death Eaters that I would not be like Dumbledore. I want you on our side, Bill. I want you as our go-to Curse Breaker because when I tell you who we’ve got right now, you’ll agree that he’s shit.”

Bill frowned as he tried to think of who Harry meant, then the lightbulb went off, and his eyes widened, “Oh no way…Fawley?!”

Harry nodded, “Exactly. He’s useless, and he seems to be on a mission to burn every single bridge he has by sleeping his way through all the barely legal daughters of Death Eaters.”

Bill grimaced, “He’s sleeping with the kids of his brothers-in-arms?”

“He’s a Fawley, he doesn’t know anything about honour,” Samson scoffed, “Most of us aren’t like that. We have friends and mentors; we support each other.”

“We’re a family,” Harry said, “We don’t just fight together like the Order, we protect each other. If you were to come on board, you would have protection. You two, your children, they would be safe.”

Fleur glanced at Bill, and something shifted in his eyes. It would have been imperceptible to the average person. Still, Augustus had been training Harry to read body language and vocal cues to work out when someone was lying or concealing something.

“So now you’re trying to recruit me?”

“I want you onboard,” Harry said honestly, “But I don’t want you there because I’ve blackmailed you into it. I want you to be on board because you agree with us, with what we are trying to achieve.”

Bill said nothing, which was good, Harry supposed. He hadn’t said no outright.

“If you come on board, we can offer you protection,” Harry promised, “We can tell the Dark Lord that the Burrow is not to be touched, but he would need insurance.”

Samson looked at Harry in surprise; he hadn’t expected him to be so knowledgeable on the subject.

“You would be required to make an unbreakable vow, both of you,” Harry said, looking between them, “Stating that you will not betray the Dark Lord and that you, Bill, will join us in an official capacity on the next full moon.”

Bill swallowed, “Become a Death Eater?”

Harry nodded, his eyes locking onto Bill’s, “It’s the only way he will give your family protection.”

Bill shook his head and drew back, “How can I say yes to that? What happened at Privet Drive the other night tore our family apart! Do you realise that?”

Harry pulled his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it carefully at Bill’s head.

“No. But if you let me see inside your head, then maybe I will be able to understand things a little more clearly.”

Bill was uncomfortable with the idea, but he nodded all the same.

_“Legilimens!”_

_Harry was looking at the Weasley twins through the door of their bedroom. Fred was lying in his bed, and George was lying in his. Their hands lay loosely at the side of their beds; they had obviously been holding hands up until they were interrupted._

_“Arthur, he is going to be a werewolf-”_

_“He is still our son, Molly-”_

_“But he is not human; he is not whole.”_

_“It doesn’t change who he is.”_

_Fred looked ashen, and George noticed. He made a terrible joke, “I’m feeling a bit holey Fred, reckon I should become a preacher?”_

_Fred managed a small smile, but he said nothing._

_“Hey,” George said softly, he grabbed Fred’s hand, “You’re going to be alright, Freddie.”_

_“Yeah, you are,” Bill’s voice said, “This doesn’t matter to Char and me, you’re still our baby brother.”_

_Fred didn’t say anything._

_“No!” Molly’s voice snapped from a distance, “It’s not safe for the rest of our children! What about Ginny?”_

_“Ginny,” Fred said weakly, “It’s always all about Ginny, isn’t it?”_

_George squeezed his hand, and Fred turned his head to look at him, “Can’t stay here George,” he muttered._

_Bill’s voice cut in, “Stay until the wedding, please.”_

_Fred gave a small nod, “Yeah, course I will, Bill. But you know Mum, you know how she is, I don’t belong here anymore.”_

_“If you don’t belong here then neither do I,” George said without dropping his twin's hand, “There’s no me without you, Freddie. We’re a package deal; you go, I go.”_

_“And what happens on the first full moon, huh? I rip you apart,” Fred said darkly._

_“Nah, I chain your sorry arse up and throw you a bone every couple of hours,” George said, “I mean it, you’re not leaving here without me.”_

_Fred swallowed and sighed, “Okay.”_

_“But not till after the wedding,” George agreed. He looked up at Bill, “Got to witness our big brother ending his run as a bachelor, eh?”_

_Bill laughed weakly, “Yeah, some wedding it’s going to be at this rate. Everyone is fucking miserable.”_

_“Nothing like a big, white wedding to cheer us all up,” George said, at the moment he was the optimist in Fred’s place._

_“You have already pushed one of our sons out!” Arthur’s voice carried along the hall, silencing the three brothers. It was rare that they heard their father angry._

_“You can’t accept Charlie for who he is so you have shunned him to Romania! He won’t even come home to fight this war! He will be here for the wedding, and yes, he’ll stay to help Fred and George through this, but then he will leave again because you can’t accept that he doesn’t want to settle down with a woman and give you grandchildren!”_

_“Don’t you dare make me the villain here, Arthur!” Molly shrieked, “Percy won’t be at the wedding because he does not even talk to us anymore, and that is on **you**.”_

_“No, Molly, that’s not on me,” Arthur barked, “Percy is a true Weasley, there’s not an ounce of Prewett in him. He wants to work for his Uncle Charlus, and you should never have told me to discourage that. I won’t let you force Fred out because if you do, we both know that George will follow him and I cannot lose two more sons.”_

_“You do not get a say in any of this, Arthur!” Molly hissed._

_A door slammed downstairs, a string of curse words were uttered by their father and somewhat unsurprisingly, there was no sight of Ron and Ginny amongst the whole thing._

_“Some family, huh,” Fred said. He sounded exhausted, and his brothers knew it had nothing to do with the pain and numbing potions he was pumped up on._

_“We’ll be okay,” George said, but neither of his brothers truly believed that._

Harry opened his eyes and nodded, “I can see what you mean, but it wasn’t me who tore your family apart. Yes, the events surrounding the battle exacerbated the situation but all of this? It is your mother’s fault, Bill.”

Samson nodded, “He’s right, Bill. You know your mum gave your dad love potions and by the time she stopped, they were married. He just fell into the relationship, then she was pregnant, and he stayed for the kids.”

Bill shook his head, “No, that’s not true. If I were conceived under the influence of a love potion, then I wouldn’t be able to love, and I can. I love Fleur, and I love Charlie, I love Fred and George.”

“The rest of your siblings are pretty pathetic,” Harry agreed, “And the love potion thing? It’s a myth; trust me.”

Bill sighed and looked at his wife.

“This isn’t about running around killing people,” Samson promised Bill, “We’re going to win this war, with or without you but I would rather we did it with you. I don’t want to see your future ruined, our families future ruined, all because you were too stubborn to admit that this, what Harry and I are fighting for, it’s right.”

Harry cocked his head at Fleur, “You see it, don’t you?”

Fleur nodded, “Yes. Some amongst you give the rest a bad name, no doubt. The likes of Bellatrix Lestrange, for example? But I do believe that most of you are good men, fighting for what you believe in.”

“Everyone thinks they are right in a war,” Harry said wisely, “All you can do is pick a side and fight for what you think is right. Do you think a world where magic ends up becoming lost is right? Or do you want to fight to preserve magic and Hogwarts for the next generation and the hundreds after that?”

Fleur took Bill’s hand, and Harry could see Bill’s resolve begin to crumble.

“I joined when Orla was born,” Samson admitted, “I looked at my baby girl, and I knew I had to do right by her. Look at Hogwarts, Bill. Look at how many classrooms are abandoned, whole sections of the school cut off because they aren’t in use anymore. We’re dying out, and it’s because of the Muggles, it’s because we’re mixing with them too much.”

“Do it for your unborn baby,” Harry agreed, his eyes darting from Bill to Fleur.

Her eyes widened, “How did you…”

“The look you exchanged when we mentioned protection for your children,” Harry answered, “The way your hand is hovering close to your stomach, the slightly green tinge to your skin. Not to mention the fact you didn’t fight at the Battle of Privet Drive. I would guess you’re just hitting the three-month mark, hence the shotgun wedding?”

Bill shook his head, “Well, I’ll be damned, becoming a Death Eater has sharpened your wits.”

“I’ve been trained,” Harry said, “Because that’s the thing with the Death Eaters, they don’t throw you in blind. Dumbledore manipulated me; he kept me weak. He paid your mother to keep me on the light side, and she forced Ron to become my friend. He fed me lies about Slytherin house only producing dark wizards so that I wouldn’t end up there. Your mother encouraged Ginny’s crush on me; she even helped her dupe me with love potion this last year.”

Bill shook his head.

Harry sighed, “You can do Legilimency; just look.”

This openness surprised Bill so; naturally, he jumped at the chance. Harry was very good at Occlumency now, so he only let Bill see what he needed to, but it had the desired effect.

Bill sank into an armchair by the small, modern fireplace, “I…I knew my mother was manipulative but….I didn’t realise how bad it was. You were right, Fleur.”

Fleur didn’t look happy about that. Instead, she looked at Harry sympathetically, “I am so sorry, Harry.”

“I killed Dumbledore because of his betrayal,” Harry said, “I feel like you should know that because if you’re going to come on board, you should do so with all of the facts. I’m a big believer in that, you make your decision based on the facts, not blindly.”

Bill said nothing.

“Narcissa Malfoy healed me,” Harry said, sitting down in a chair opposite Bill, “She fixed my eyesight, gave me potions which helped me grow to the height I should have been and reversed the effects of the 11 years of malnourishment that I had to go through because of Dumbledore. I have a babysitter and a personal tutor, I have done nothing but read for the past three months Bill, and as a man even more experienced and educated than me, you know that this is right. Don’t you?”

Bill nodded.

“At the end of the day Bill, a lot of people who want to join us do so because they want something from Voldemort. They want protection, they want to be on the winning side, they want a specific job. They do it because they are ambitious, stupidly so sometimes but there you go,” Harry shrugged.

“You are in a unique position here. You have something that the Dark Lord wants and something that he needs. You are an expert in your field, and you know that. He would jump at the chance to have you onboard, and that means there is bargaining room for you, quite a bit of it to be honest.”

Bill gave a small nod and looked up at Fleur. She bowed her head in response, and Bill turned to Harry, “Okay.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “You’ll swear it?”

“I’ll swear it,” Bill said, “But I do have conditions. I want your promise that Fleur and when they are born, our children, will be protected.”

Harry nodded, “Done.”

“I want your word that the Burrow will not be attacked on our wedding night,” Bill continued.

Once again, Harry nodded, “Also done.”

Bill’s eyes locked onto Harry’s, “I want my Dad, Charlie, Fred and George to be given an option. Even if they keep fighting for the light, if they are captured, you give them the chance to switch sides, you don’t just kill them on sight.”

Harry nodded slowly, “I’m sure I can swing that with the Dark Lord. You don’t care about the others?”

“Percy is already on your side,” Bill pointed out.

“ _Our_ side,” Harry corrected, “And he isn’t, is he Sam?”

Samson shrugged, “By association, he is. He knows what’s happening on the 1st and he remained in his job, there was no need for the imperius curse.”

“Go figure,” Harry said dryly, “What about your mother, Ron and Ginny?”

“If you capture Ginny, just check that she’s not under the influence of anything before you hurt her,” Bill said, his eyes darkening, “If my mother is as bad as it looks like she is, I don’t trust her not to influence Ginny in some way. Ron…he’s acting of his own free will, I can tell you that. He’s malicious and jealous, god he’s just like Mum when I think about it.”

Harry sighed and nodded, “Okay. We’ll make the Unbreakable Vow. I will swear to uphold your conditions, and just so you know, I’ll probably get tortured to fuck by the Dark Lord for it, so I’m really doing you a solid here.”

“He’s telling the truth there,” Samson admitted.

Harry looked at Bill, “In return, you will vow to join the Dark Lord as a Death Eater on the next initiation, which is August’s full moon. Fleur, you are under no obligation, but your skills would be very much appreciated at our headquarters if you are any good with Healing. That is of course, completely up to you though, Fleur but if you do stay close, Narcissa can keep an eye on you and make sure everything goes well with the baby.”

Fleur's eyes softened, “Babies,” she corrected.

Harry smiled, “Twins?”

Fleur nodded, and Bill scoffed, “Don’t act like you’re bothered about her health, or that of the babies, Harry. All you care about is the line being carried on.”

“Samson has two children, one of them a male heir,” Harry pointed out, “The Weasley name would always carry on. I care about protecting innocent lives; Bill and unborn babies are as innocent as they come. Frankly, I am glad you’ve agreed to join us because you will be far safer on our side than you are on the side of the light.”

Bill didn’t look entirely convinced, but he held his hand out anyway and looked at Samson.

“Let’s just get this over and done with then.”

Harry reached out and gripped Bill’s forearm.

“Great idea.”

* * *

Days passed, and Harry heard nothing from Voldemort. He assumed that was good – if he were angry, Harry would hear or see him. He hoped that meant that Voldemort didn’t know what he and Samson had gotten up to in his absence, but he pushed that thought down and carried on regardless.

In-between lessons, Harry popped in and out of the makeshift hospital wing that Narcissa and Draco had set up in the long gallery on the Manor's second floor. Rodolphus had been discharged relatively quickly because Narcissa had been able to seal his wound with ease.

Tristan and Fitz were still stuck in there though, Tristan was bedbound on account of his burns. Narcissa had said that they would partially heal, but until then he was wrapped up like a mummy with a soothing, healing balm applied to his skin and permanent numbing charms and pain potions to stop him spending his days screaming in agony.

It had taken days for all of the bones in Fitz’s knee to be repaired. He was sick to the back end of Skele-Gro, and he had spent every night shaking and sweating from the pain as his knee glued itself back together. Narcissa had to do some intricate charm work to remove the tiny fragments of bone that had managed to get into his bloodstream, and due to the nerve damage that the curse had caused, he would always walk with a limp now – just as Lucius did.

Harry had discovered, from Draco, that his father had used a cane ever since the first war. The same curse had hit him as Fitz, a bone-crushing curse straight to the knee, in a skirmish towards the end of 1980. The spell had come from Arthur Weasley’s wand, stemming the rivalry and hatred between the two men and their families.

On the third day of Voldemort’s absence, Harry ventured into the Dark Lords wing of the Manor to feed Nagini. He walked along the corridor tentatively, unsure where he would find the snake – there were four doors, two of them were locked so Harry assumed they led to Voldemort’s bedroom and study respectively. Of the other two doors, one led into a bathroom which left just one option.

Harry opened the fourth door and peered inside. It was a small sitting room with a roaring fire, and coiled up in front of the fire was a large snake. She lifted her head at the intrusion.

“ _Hi, Nagini,”_ Harry said in parseltongue.

Nagini looked at him with interest, _“Hello hatchling. Where is the Dark Lord?”_

_“He is tending to business abroad,”_ Harry said, “ _He asked me to feed you.”_

_“You? You would not make a good meal,”_ the snake said sarcastically.

Harry wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, “ _No, I mean, he asked me to get you food, so what do you eat?”_

_“It has been several days since I have eaten,”_ Nagini mused, “ _Something large and particularly juicy. Could you fetch me a lawyer?”_

_“A lawyer?”_

_“Yes, a Muggle lawyer, of course. The Dark Lord only allows me to eat magical people on very special occasions.”_

_“Right,”_ Harry said, surprised by Nagini’s level of intelligence and near human understanding of not just what he was saying, but how he was saying it.

“ _I’ll get you a Muggle lawyer and bring it back here.”_

_“Thank you, hatchling,”_ Nagini hissed.

Harry stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him, “That was quite possibly the weirdest conversation, ever,” he mumbled to himself. He left the wing and jogged down the stairs, pausing in the doorway of the dining room.

“Draco! Fancy going out? I’m not supposed to leave the Manor without a babysitter, and I need to go kill a lawyer.”

Draco looked up from his book, “Did you just say, ‘kill a lawyer’?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, leaning in the doorway, “Apparently Nagini is very selective when it comes to her food.”

Lucius scoffed, “She is playing you for a fool. She usually just eats whatever the Dark Lord gives her.”

“Well I’m not the Dark Lord, and although I am a parseltongue, I’m not convinced that would save me if she got pissy that I hadn’t brought her the right food,” Harry remarked matter of factly.

“I don’t think begging in parseltongue works any better than begging in English.”

Draco snorted as he reached Harry in the doorway, “No, but it’s definitely more interesting,” he said, a suggestiveness to his tone of voice.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, _“Is that so?”_

“I have no idea what you just said, but this is why I thought you were flirting with me Potter,” Draco remarked matter of factly.

Harry rolled his eyes, “With you? Come on; I’ve got more taste than that.”

Lucius shook his head as the two boys left the room, bickering through the entrance hall.

“This was what you expected to happen six years ago,” Narcissa said softly from her spot next to her husband.

Lucius hummed in agreement, “Better late than never,” he said, giving his wife a small smile.

*** TBC ***


	12. In Death I Will Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert Rosier’s funeral gives Harry food for thought, and he meets Albert’s illustrious second son whose existence has been kept remarkably quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Somebody to Die for by Hurts.

Albert Rosier’s funeral was quite some event. Harry had never been to a wizarding funeral before, and as this was a pureblood funeral, he expected it to be quite different from a standard wizarding funeral.

The funeral was held on the Rosier estate in Hampshire. The family home was imposing; the Rosier family hailed from France, that was obvious enough from the name. But if that wasn’t enough, the fact they had married into the Malfoy and Lestrange lines said it all.

The house was Romanesque in style. It was beautiful and similar to Malfoy Manor in a way. The walls were thick; it was all ornamental arches and spiral towers. The only difference was that the Rosier family had not updated the home as much as the Malfoys had. Malfoy Manor was positively baroque in style now. Harry presumed Lucius had a lot to answer for on that front. But Rosier Manor was far more rustic, and Harry preferred it for that reason.

The grounds were much the same – there were no hedge mazes filled with peacocks, no fountain gardens filled with Japanese Koi. There was just a sweeping lawn, leading out onto a wooded area where Hippogriffs roamed freely.

At the centre of that lawn was a timber funeral pyre which Albert’s body was placed on top of, wrapped up in cotton and with flowers resting atop him. These flowers were said to help in releasing his magical energy when his soul passed on.

As Harry had learned during this past week, a pureblood funeral had lots of traditions, but the most important one seemed to centre around the four elements. Harry already knew that these were significant; it had come up repeatedly in his reading with Gus.

The four Hogwarts houses were each linked to an element which, according to legend, related to the area of expertise of that house’s founder. Purebloods believed that magic came from the world around them and as such, each magical person was made up of at least one element, usually more than one which explained hat-stalls like himself. Air people who were brilliant, curious, independent and observant tended to go to Ravenclaw. Fire people who were enthusiastic, impulsive and inspirational often ended up in Gryffindor. Water people who were emotional, intuitive and creative would frequently find themselves in Slytherin. And earth people who were grounded, practical, disciplined and focused would find a home in Hufflepuff.

This came into play at a pureblood funeral too. Four family members (or close friends when the deceased did not have any or did not have enough, living family members) would stand around the funeral pyre at the four points of the compass – air in the east, fire in the south, water in the west and earth in the north. Each family member had to portray some of the traits of the element they stood for, and they had to then give thanks for it. This procedure ensured that Albert’s soul left this plane of existence and moved on, ensuring he would not be trapped as a ghost, forevermore.

The living family that Albert had was scarce. His older sister was dead, but through her, he had three nieces – Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa.

Albert’s younger sister, Ellen was alive, and through her, he had a nephew in Cassius Warrington.

Lastly, much to Harry’s surprise – Albert had another son. Along with everyone else, he had known that Albert had lost his eldest son, Evan, to Mad-Eye Moody in the First Wizarding War. Harry thought it oddly fitted that he died in the same battle as his son's murderer. However, only those who had known Albert for the longest knew that he has a second son.

Felix Rosier looked out of place amongst a group of men and women who were either Death Eaters themselves or closely affiliated with them. He wore the traditional attire required at a pureblood funeral – dark, but not black robes. It was clear he knew the traditions, but it seemed to Harry that he disagreed with them. He was tall and muscular, his dark hair fell to his shoulders, and there was a deep scar cutting its way across his face. Harry didn’t know why he hadn’t been a part of his father's life, but he suspected he would get a gossipy version of events later from the way Draco was bouncing on his feet craning to get a better look at Felix.

Harry watched silently as the chosen four family members took their places at the four points of the compass.

Narcissa represented air, which was fitting because for a Slytherin she was incredibly Ravenclaw-like, as was Draco.

Cassius represented fire, Harry supposed he was the only one amongst them to portray any remotely Gryffindor-like traits which made sense. People tended to be enthusiastic and impulsive in their youth, but not so much as they matured.

Bellatrix represented water which made sense. She was a stereotypical Slytherin in that regard. Although Harry didn’t regard her in high esteem, she was indeed very emotional and incredibly intuitive, she could smell false intentions a mile off. As for creativity? Well, the ways she killed and tortured were nothing if not that.

Finally, Ellen represented the earth. Harry didn’t know what house she had been in at Hogwarts, but he supposed you tended to get more grounded and disciplined the older that you got.

Harry watched with interest as the funeral began. Narcissa began by encompassing the funeral pyre in a gentle spring breeze then she gave thanks to the air element. Next, Cassius sent flares up into the evening sky and gave thanks to the element of fire. Bellatrix raised her wand and sent a stream of water into the air, which then rained down on all of the attendees. She gave thanks to the water element and, lastly, Ellen raised the earth and let it sprinkle down on top of her brother's body atop the funeral pyre.

All four of them raised their wands and pointed them at the pyre.

They cried, “ _Incendio_!”

And like a bonfire, it took hold, the flames licking their way higher and higher towards Albert’s body.

Harry had been so fascinated that he didn’t notice a shoulder against his own until he heard the voice inside his head.

_Good evening, Harry. I see that you have both refused to meet my gaze and that you have been shielding. I presume this has something to do with your reason for sneaking out of the Manor on the night I left the country._

Harry could have kicked himself. He knew.

_Of course, I know. Would you be so kind as to tell me why you did such a thing?_

_Is this really the time and place?_ Harry thought back to Voldemort, his eyes still on the funeral pyre.

A soft scoff came from his side, but Harry did not turn to look at Voldemort.

_Do not pretend that you hold Albert Rosier in any regard. You barely knew the man._

_I know. But you did. He was one of your first Death Eaters, he came with you to Hogwarts that night, when you asked Dumbledore for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position._

_He did, and he was a loyal follower and a true friend. His loss is a terrible one to our war effort._

_No, Tom. It’s sad. It’s a tragic loss. You don’t have to say it, and you don’t even have to think about it because I can feel it. He was your friend, and you are sad that he’s dead, there’s no shame in that._

_There is also no truth in it; do not presume to try and tell me how I feel. Now, why did you leave the Manor? If you do not tell me I shall be forced to search your brain for the answer and to add insult to injury, I will purposefully search for humiliating memories._

Harry sighed and looked away from the funeral pyre as the flames reached Albert’s body, “I had to stop a situation from going bad.”

Voldemort’s eyes locked onto his, “Explain.”

“Samson was going to warn his cousin about the Ministry takeover,” Harry said quietly, “He’s not stupid, he knows that when we take the Ministry, we gain access to the Order through the Department of Magical Transportation. August Eve is Bill Weasley’s wedding day, so he wanted to warn him.”

Voldemort’s eyes flashed angrily and a stabbing pain shot through Harry’s scar.

“If you dealt with the situation, why is Samson Weasley still alive?” Voldemort hissed.

“Because I saw it as an opportunity,” Harry said, “As a gesture of goodwill, we informed Bill that his wedding would be attacked and he asked if there was anything we could do to prevent that. I told him the truth, that if he joined our ranks, he would have protection, he would never have to worry about his wife or his unborn children again.”

Voldemort said nothing. His eyes still on Harry’s.

“It took a little convincing, but he’s a traditionalist at heart. He had conditions, but he swore under an Unbreakable Vow to join us on the August full moon.,” Harry said, getting to the point before Voldemort could lose patience with him, “So yes, we took a risk, but it gained us the best Curse Breaker in the British Isles.”

“And if that risk had not worked out?” Voldemort asked, his voice high and dangerous, “Then you would have ruined my plan to take the Ministry, all to save one pathetic branch of a family who has treated you as badly as Dumbledore did. To make matters worse, you did so without consulting anybody. You could have spoken to me with ease, you could have spoken to Rookwood or Pyrites in my place, but you made a decision that I would not allow my most loyal supporters to make on their own – you, who have only been in my ranks for mere weeks.”

“In hindsight, I realise that wasn’t the best idea, but it all worked out in the end?” Harry said sheepishly.

Voldemort looked at him, furiously, “I am irritated enough with your foolish decisions, do not make matters worse with sarcasm.”

Harry nodded, “Right, sorry, my lord. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Bill did have conditions, and they regarded the safety of his family, but the ones he asked to keep safe? They would all bring something to the table for us.”

Voldemort did not look convinced, “How so?”

“Fred and George Weasley are geniuses.” Harry said, “They can do things with spells and charms that are beyond my capability and probably even yours. They are incredibly inventive, imagine having two brains like that on board. Percy, he’s slimy, but he’s smart, and he’s incredibly good at navigating the political world. Charlie, he’s a Dragonologist, if we could get him on board, you could have dragons at your command and a man who can control them.”

“What of the muggle loving father?” Voldemort asked distastefully.

“Yeah, he’s the one useless one in the deal, but I mean all in, it’s still a good deal,” Harry pointed.

“We will see about that, Harry,” Voldemort said lowly, “We will see.”

Harry could tell that the conversation wasn’t over yet. He had gone against Voldemort, but worse, he had gone over Voldemort’s head. He would almost certainly be punished for this.

“You will be,” Voldemort agreed, “As will he,” his eyes darted across the garden to Samson Weasley who was now talking quietly with Felix Rosier.

Harry sighed; he had expected as much.

“Forgive me, Harry, but is this the time to be having a political discussion?” Narcissa asked quietly from her spot not far away from him.

Voldemort smirked at Harry very slightly, only enough so that he could see it, “I quite agree, Lady Malfoy. This is not the time or the place, Harry. You really must work on your pureblood etiquette.”

Harry glared at Voldemort as he walked away, “Arse,” he muttered under his breath.

“Did you just call the Dark Lord what I think you did?” Draco whispered, stepping forward to talk to him.

Harry crossed his arms, aware he looked like a huffy child, “I can’t get a handle on him. One minute he’s smirking and chuckling, and we’re friends, then the next he’s Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard the world has ever seen.”

Draco patted him on the shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, just pretend he has a split-personality.”

The comment had been meant as a joke, but it wasn’t. Harry frowned slightly and looked at Voldemort as he walked across the garden to give his condolences to Ellen Rosier. He was glamoured up as an older Tom Riddle again, and although Voldemort was 70, his Tom Riddle form looked to be in his 40’s.

He did have a split personality. There was the insane side, the part that had become that way when he split his soul so many times, but underneath that, buried very deeply that much was true, was Tom Riddle. And Harry liked Tom Riddle; he had always liked him. He was charming, sneaky, brilliant, inventive – a real combination of air and water, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

“Can’t believe Felix showed up,” Draco said, and Harry nearly chuckled in amusement. It hadn’t taken long for Draco to get onto the gossip, as Harry had expected.

“Yeah? I didn’t even know he had another son,” Harry admitted.

“That’s because Albert didn’t talk to him,” Draco said in an undertone, “Felix was in second year at school when his brother Evan got killed, and then a few months later his dad was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His mother raised him; she was a Mulciber.”

Harry watched Fitzroy Mulciber pull Felix into a hug on the other side of the garden.

“Yeah, Fitz is his cousin,” Draco said when he noticed what Harry was looking at, “Anyway, he was a Slytherin like Samson Weasley, they were best friends all through school. Felix is smart, everyone thought he would have a brilliant career in the Ministry and carry on the Rosier name, but his mother died the year he finished Hogwarts. He didn’t take it very well; he shut himself off, became a Dragonologist and moved to South America.”

That explained the tan, the deep scarring on his handsome face and how muscular Felix was. Harry momentarily wondered if he knew Charlie.

“The Dark Lord will use his presence at the funeral as an opportunity to get him on board,” Draco continued, “He’s been trying to get a Dragonologist for ages. Part of it comes down to some secret project in the basement, I can’t even go in, and this is my house.”

Harry frowned at that. What could the Dark Lord possibly be working on that would require a Dragonologist?

“And also, it would be amazing to have dragons under our control,” Draco said chirpily.

“You really like dragons, huh?” Harry asked, shooting him an amused look.

“My name is literally ‘dragon’ so yes, I do like them. They are very majestic beasts, you know?”

Harry snorted, “As majestic as peacocks?” he asked with a wink.

Draco punched him in the arm and jokingly told him where to fuck off to. Harry just grinned in response and headed over to Felix so that he could give him his condolences.

* * *

“Nice to meet you, Felix,” Harry said when he reached the older man, “I just wanted to apologise for your loss. Your father was a fierce fighter and an intelligent man; his loss must sadden you.”

Felix sighed, “Harry Potter, right? The chosen boy turned dark?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m not convinced I’m ‘dark’. I prefer the term traditionalist with a slightly grey moral compass.”

Felix smiled slightly, “No Death Eaters think they are dark, that’s the problem. My father was like you; he was always convinced that what he was doing was for the greater good, and do you know what? It probably is.”

Harry was silent; he had the impression that Felix had more to say than that.

“But when the greater good is at the detriment of everything else,” Felix said quietly, “It’s not worth it. I lost my brother and my father, then not long after that, my mother. It was all because of this life, of who it forces you to become. I didn’t want that so I ran away and when my father escaped from Azkaban, I didn’t return a single one of his letters.”

Felix looked up at the pyre, “I regret that now, of course. I don’t have closure, and I certainly never gave him closure.”

“Sometimes people just die, there is no closure,” Harry said quietly, “I still don’t have closure over my parent's deaths and to be honest, I don’t think I ever will. You learn to accept it, you move on, and it gets better.”

“I know,” Felix said, “But this life? It changes you; it ages you prematurely. That’s why I ran away from it, why I almost didn’t come back for my fathers funeral. I was too scared that the Dark Lord would use it as an opportunity to drag me in.”

“He won’t drag you in against your will, Felix,” Harry promised him, “That’s not his style. He wants his followers to be willing, believe in the same things that he does, and urge to fight for those things. I think he might ask a favour of you, but it is just that, and as soon as you have done it, or attempted to do it, he will let you run back to your dragons if you so wish.”

“You’re certain?” Felix asked.

Harry nodded, “We have another Dragonologist on the cards, someone who is not on board yet but who we feel is very close to switching sides. If it weren’t for that, the Dark Lord probably would put you under more pressure.”

“Another Dragonologist?” Felix asked, “I thought Charlie Weasley was the only other British one. He’s certainly the only one that I know of.”

Harry smirked slightly, “Make of that what you will.”

“A Prewett-Weasley?” Felix uttered, “Joining the cause? I can’t see it.”

“This isn’t the 1980s, Felix,” Harry said, “We have the upper hand, we vastly outnumber the lights feeble resistance. We are not a minority anymore, and we are going to win this war. Not all of the Prewett-Weasley’s are too ignorant to see that, Samson has already convinced one of his cousins to take the mark on the August moon.”

Felix looked over at Samson, who Draco had said was his best friend during their school years, “Bill. Of course, I went to school with him, and he was ambitious even then.”

“He isn’t joining because he’s ambitious, he’s joining for protection and because he knows that what we are doing is right,” Harry said honestly.

“He’s seen Muggles desecrate sacred magical tombs, just like you have seen the effect muggles have had on dragons.”

Felix nodded thoughtfully, “So many breeds of dragons have died out or are almost extinct because of their ignorance.”

“Our world shouldn’t have to suffer for that,” Harry said, “Their blood shouldn’t weaken our magic, our magical creatures threatened by their ignorance and our sacred grounds desecrated by Muggle tourists. That’s what the Dark Lord wants to achieve – a world where magic is as strong as it should be, where the empty classrooms in Hogwarts are full again. A world where dragons don’t have to be caged and confined to reserves just to preserve their lives.”

Felix didn’t say anything, but Harry could tell that he was deep in thought.

“You don’t have to decide anything today,” Harry finished with a smile, “It’s your fathers funeral. Give yourself time to mourn, but the full moon this August is going to be a special one. We will have had a big victory by then, you will see in due course, and Bill Weasley joining us will be a huge knock for the light. From there, I think the cracks will become very apparent.”

Felix bowed his head, “You will have an answer from me, one way or the other, by the full moon.”

Harry gave a small nod and then conjured flowers out of his wand. He lay them at the edge of the funeral pyre, and Felix smiled sadly, “Irises? For respect and honour.”

“He died fighting, it’s the least I can do,” Harry said, smiling at Felix one last time before crossing the garden.

_Good job,_ Voldemort’s voice said in his head.

Harry looked up at the Dark Lord; he was sitting down with Bellatrix at his side. Her hand was twitching as if she was desperate to reach out and grab his, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

_It wouldn’t hurt to have two Dragonologist’s on board, would it? Dragon riders always do hunt in pairs._

Although he was some distance away, Harry was sure he saw Voldemort smirk.

_Quite so._

* * *

When Harry woke up on his 17th birthday, there were no presents at the end of his bed. He wasn’t sure why he had expected there to be any, he was a Death Eater now. They didn’t knit each other sweaters and bake fudge for each other; he snorted at the very thought.

Harry got up, showered and dressed as if it were any other day. Then he made his way downstairs for breakfast – it was usually relatively quiet in the morning. The only permanent occupants of the house were the Malfoys, Harry and Voldemort. Most of the other Death Eaters had somewhere else to stay, except for Tristan and Fitz who were still in the ‘hospital wing’.

“Happy Birthday, darling,” Narcissa said as if this was the 17th birthday Harry had spent with them not the first.

He smiled at her, “Thank you, Narcissa.”

“I know you said you did not want to make a big fuss, but I have instructed the elves to serve steak pie and treacle tart for dinner this evening,” Narcissa said as Harry took his seat at the table, “Draco assures me it is your favourite.”

Harry shot Draco an amused look, “How did Draco suss that out when the Slytherin table is at the opposite side of the hall from the Gryffindor one?”

“I’m just more observant than you, Potter,” Draco teased, “Wouldn’t be hard, would it?”

Harry chuckled, “No, that’s true and thank you, Narcissa, it is my favourite.”

“We shall have to develop your tastes then,” Lucius said dryly as he held out a small box, “Happy Seventeenth.”

Harry was surprised by the gesture, “Thank you, Lucius,” he said as he lifted the lid off and peered into the box. Inside was a small, emerald encrusted beetle.

“At the risk of sounding like an uneducated half-blood…what is it?” Harry asked.

“A mind shield,” Lucius replied. He looked up from his newspaper, “I am one of two Death Eaters who were trusted with the Dark Lord’s secret. I have noticed the conversations you two hold without words, it was not difficult to put the pieces together, and Draco confirmed the hunch.”

“Sorry,” Draco muttered.

Harry shook his head, “It’s fine,” he said, his eyes still on Lucius.

“This will block him out,” Lucius said, “You are a seventeen-year-old boy, I am sure there are some events that you will not want the Dark Lord to be able to listen to or look in on.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed, “Uh, yeah. That…thank you, that’s a very practical, thoughtful gift.”

“Father is good with them,” Draco said with a small smile, “Makes my gift look rubbish though. Thank you for that, Father.”

Lucius smirked, “You ought to know better. You can never trump me where gift-giving is concerned.”

“It is not a competition, boys,” Narcissa said in the exasperated voice of a woman who had said that very thing several times before.

Harry chuckled in amusement and thanked Draco as his friend handed him a small, soft parcel. He unwrapped it and grinned when he saw a dragon-hide wand holster, “Wicked. Thanks, Draco.”

Draco shrugged, “Figured it would help if you’re going to keep fighting the way you did last week.”

Harry nodded and smiled at his friend, “It’s great. Thank you, all of you.”

The Malfoy’s shrugged off his graciousness, and they ate breakfast together while they discussed the farce that was the Prophet. It felt like a family breakfast, and that was a better birthday present than any material object.

As the day went on, Harry didn’t see Voldemort, but he wasn’t put out by it. He was aware that their relationship was complicated at best; he hardly expected a birthday gift from the Dark Lord. He took the day off from studying and spent the afternoon playing Quidditch with Draco. They got through a few Seekers matches then showered before enjoying a family dinner together with all of Harry’s favourite foods and much to his surprise, Voldemort joined them.

He sat at the end of the table, and Lucius seemed to be uncomfortable about that. Probably because it should have been his chair, no doubt that was why he wasn’t keen on having Voldemort use his home as headquarters, it probably threatened his manhood. Not that he needed anything to do that for him, the several hundred peacocks outside were enough.

Voldemort smirked at Harry. He had obviously listened into that thought, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he said, “Happy Seventeenth Birthday, Harry.”

And, to the surprise of Harry and the three Malfoy’s, he handed Harry a small present. Harry took it from the Dark Lord and said, “Thank you, my lord. I did not expect anything.”

“That is precisely why you deserve something,” Voldemort said dryly.

Harry unwrapped the present, inside was a box. He opened it up and looked in surprise at a watch. It was a very lovely watch too; Harry suspected it was gold-plated if not solid and a ring of emeralds and diamonds encompassed the face. But his initial thought wasn’t of its grandeur – it was of the thought that had gone into it. He knew that wizards received watches on their 17th birthdays, it was a tradition that even he had heard of before joining the pureblood circle that he now considered himself a part of.

But what he had learned recently through his study sessions with Gus were that traditions were important. Upholding them was important, and he knew Voldemort believed that too. He knew that Voldemort understood the significance of this.

A father traditionally gave his son a watch on their 17th birthday.

Of course, Harry didn’t have to verbalise this to Voldemort. He knew that the Dark Lord was listening to his idle, rambling thoughts. Harry looked up into those scarlet eyes that he had once regarded as cruel.

Voldemort bowed his head and thought to Harry. _I will never refer to you as the son I never had because a child was never something I wished for. However, I can admit that I consider you to be my heir._

Harry swallowed and nodded, “This is lovely. Thank you.”

Narcissa had her poker face on; she gave nothing away about what she had just witnessed. Lucius kept his eyes down, a confused look briefly passing over his face. Draco just looked shocked; it hadn’t gone over the Malfoy’s heads then, they knew the significance of the gift too.

Voldemort just nodded, “You are going out with some friends in the grounds this evening, I hear?”

“Yes,” Harry replied, “But I won’t stay late this time. I don’t have an excuse to lose track of time anymore,” he added with a slight smile as he looked down at his new watch.

Voldemort rolled his eyes, “Hilarious,” he drawled as he looked at the steak pie on the table, “Your taste in food leaves something to be desired, might I add?”

“You’re not the first person to say that,” Harry admitted, shooting an amused look in Lucius’s direction.

Draco patted him on the back and said, “We’ll have you eating caviar before the year is through.”

And Harry could have sworn that Voldemort laughed.

*** TBC ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the new chapters guys! I'm going to change the upload date to a Wednesday as it actually works a little better for me anyway, so as of now new chapters every Wednesday! Next one is a big one, Harry's 17th and the first sex scenes, woohoo! 
> 
> Hope all who celebrate it had a lovely Christmas and I wish everyone a Happy New Year! May it be a damn sight better than this one, I for one am looking forward to leaving the shit storm that was 2020 in the dust behind me.
> 
> See you all in 2021 for the next update! :D


	13. I've Got Friends in Low Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s birthday party is a whirlwind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks.
> 
> EXPLICIT RATING FOR SEX STARTS IN THIS CHAPTER, just FYI.

Harry’s birthday gathering did not consist of many ‘friends’, and really, none of them were _his_ friends. They were Draco’s friends - they were Harry’s allies, people his age who he thought (or rather hoped) might become friends someday.

They met up in the woods again, in the same clearing they had used for Draco’s birthday. It was a similar group of people – Harry and Draco, Theo, Blaise, Reyna, Emilia, but they were missing Terry and Cass tonight.

This time, Reyna produced a bottle with a grin, “Look what I stole from my dad before I apparated here.”

Draco whistled, “Nice.”

Blaise nodded his agreement, “Very nice. I would have brought something but all my parents keep in is wine, and that’s not the sort of thing you drink in the woods.”

“Far too classy for us,” Reyna agreed.

“Do you think we should light a fire?” Emelia asked thoughtfully, “It got kind of cold on Draco’s birthday when the sun went down.”

Harry nodded, “Accio, firewood!”

A pile came flying out of somewhere, and he built it up on the ground then lit it with ease.

“How’d you make that look so easy?” Theo asked curiously.

Harry shrugged, “Something I learned in my past life as a muggle, I guess,” he said evasively.

They all knew it wasn’t something he liked to talk about, so they left the subject there and didn’t prod.

Reyna handed him the bottle, “First drink should go to the birthday boy. Trust me, by the end of the night; you’ll have forgotten all about your tragic childhood.”

Harry snorted at that. Reyna grinned and pulled the cap out of the bottle of whiskey. Harry took it from her and swigged it, barely managing to contain a cough afterwards.

The others all laughed, and Harry said, “Fuck, that is strong.”

“Ogden’s best,” Reyna said with a smirk, “Guaranteed to get all of us drunk before midnight when Cinderella has to go home,” she winked at Harry.

“Funny,” Harry said dryly, but the others found it funny.

They passed the bottle around, making small talk about Hogwarts and the funny things they had witnessed in their respective common rooms which was how they got onto the subject of drinking games.

It was Reyna’s fault; she had started it when she said, “I bet the Slytherin common room isn’t as much fun as the Ravenclaw one.”

Theo laughed out loud, “Really? Sweet Salazar, when a game of spin the bottle gets out of hand it really gets out of hand, doesn’t it?”

Blaise smirked triumphantly, “Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t start bragging about how you got a snog out of the Ice Queen, he might explode with jealousy,” Draco said with a wicked grin.

Harry scoffed, “Hardly. I just admired her magical skill, Draco’s the one engaged to marry her or her sister.”

“Thanks for telling everyone about that,” Draco muttering, throwing a stick at Harry.

Harry grinned and dodged it as Blaise snorted, “It’ll be Astoria. Like you could convince Daphne Greengrass to marry you.”

Theo chuckled, “Like anyone could convince Daphne Greengrass to marry anyone. She’s as feminist as her father is neutral.”

Harry’s eyes fell on Theo with interest, “Yeah?”

Theo nodded and took a swig from the bottle, “Yep, been that way since she was a kid. Tori played with dolls while Daphne played chess with her father and held political debates with her mother.”

Harry frowned and Theo smiled, “She’s my cousin, Potter. Her mother is my Aunt, and she’s been a bit of a mother figure to me because my mother died when I was a baby.”

_Like my parents did,_ Harry mused.

“Right,” Harry said with a nod.

“Anyway,” Reyna cut in, “You Slytherins always play the same game. It’s always spin the bottle because you all enjoy making out with each other so much.”

Draco shrugged, “Slytherins are the best kissers to be fair.”

Reyna laughed, “No, you just _think_ you are.”

“What game do Ravenclaws play then?” Harry asked her curiously.

“Never have I ever, usually,” Reyna said matter of factly, “It gets you drunk quickly _and_ provides you with ample blackmail about your housemates.”

Harry snorted, “No wonder Ravenclaws and Slytherins form such good friendships.”

Reyna just grinned mischievously.

“Gryffindors play truth or dare,” Harry said, “I never really took part in it, but I saw the older students playing it sometimes. It was always a riot when Fred and George played, one time Fred made George fly around the tower naked on Oliver Wood’s broomstick.”

Draco scoffed, “Gryffindors, so vulgar.”

Reyna kicked Draco, “Why don’t we play the ultimate drinking game to settle this debate?”

“The ultimate drinking game?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Reyna conjured a bottle out of nowhere and placed it on the ground, “We spin the bottle. The person it lands on gets to pick truth or dare, never have I ever or spin the bottle.”

“Fair enough,” Draco agreed, “You first then.”

Reyna spun the bottle which slowed down and landed on Blaise.

Blaise leant back and smirked, “Spin the bottle again then.”

Reyna did so, and it landed on Emilia.

“Apologise to your boyfriend, Em,” Blaise said, leaning across to kiss the redhead. Harry had expected Emelia to kiss him back quickly then laugh awkwardly. That was what always happened in the Gryffindor common room, after all.

Instead, Emelia deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around Blaise’s neck. Reyna rolled her eyes and spun the bottle, “Might as well start someone else’s turn while those two are at it.”

Harry forced himself to look away when Emelia pushed herself onto Blaise’s lap. Draco noticed and chuckled, “And here was me thinking that Gryffindor’s were bold.”

Harry rolled his eyes at that and looked down at the bottle. This time it landed on Draco.

Reyna looked at him, expectantly, “What will it be?”

Draco observed her for a moment, “Never Have I Ever.”

Judging from Reyna’s smirk, that hadn’t been the right call. She transfigured some wood into shot glasses and with a click of her fingers, distributed them around the circle.

“Never have I ever doubted my heterosexuality,” Reyna said, crossing her arms and looking Draco right in the eye. She then cast a charm that Harry didn’t know, but it seemed to contain some of the same words as a legilimency spell.

The spell did seem to read their minds somehow because some of their glasses were automatically filled – Harry’s was one of them.

“Uh, how did you do that?” Harry asked sharply.

“Quirky little spell that my Daddy taught me,” Reyna said with a grin, “Low-level mind-reading, basically. What made you doubt your straightness, Harry?”

Harry picked up the shot glass, “Well it was kind of hard not to doubt it temporarily when Draco tried to snog me at Midsummer,” he said, knocking back the shot.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Thanks for that,” he muttered, knocking back his drink.

“Emmy, stop sucking Blaise’s face off, he needs to drink,” Reyna said condescendingly.

Emilia pulled away from Blaise, her cheeks flushed. Blaise grinned and knocked back the shot of whiskey, “What am I drinking to?”

“The fact you’ve doubted your heterosexuality,” Theo said, knocking back his drink.

Emelia looked in her shot and shrugged then knocked it back too.

Harry snorted, “What is it with Slytherins?”

“Hey, you drank too,” Reyna reminded him as she set the bottle spinning again.

That was true; Harry couldn’t deny it. He was also glad that he was wearing his anti-Voldemort beetle.

The bottle stopped once more on Harry this time, and Reyna said, “Well?”

“Truth or dare,” Harry said, his eyes meeting hers determinately.

“I’ll give you a truth, then a dare,” Reyna said, her eyes flashing playfully, “We know you’re a virgin but have you ever kissed someone? And I mean really kissed someone, not just a peck?”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Yes, Cho Chang.”

“Huh, Cho?” Reyna asked with a smirk, “You like Ravenclaws?”

Harry smirked right back at her, “Maybe I do.”

Reyna’s grin widened, and the others shared amused looks, they could all feel the tension building between the two teenagers, “Good because I dare you to kiss me.”

She was expecting some awkwardness because as much as he was now a Death Eater capable of terrible things, Harry was also an awkward 17-year-old boy. The way she looked at him spurred Harry on though; he wasn’t just going to kiss her, he was going to surprise her.

Harry got to his feet and held his hand out to Reyna. The older girl raised an eyebrow at him but held her hand out anyway. Harry grasped it firmly and pulled her to her feet then he kissed her hard. His right hand dropped to her hip, he dragged her towards him and held her tightly there while his left hand held her face. She was surprised, but not unpleasantly so as she kissed him back, just as hard and just as desperately.

They ignored the chuckles and catcalls of their friends, and Harry fought the ache in his balls, there was no way she was getting him hard from a kiss in front of all of their friends. Draco would never let him live it down for a start.

Reyna broke the kiss and grabbed Harry’s hand, “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private, birthday boy.”

Blaise whistled, and Theo jeered them on while Emilia rolled her eyes. Draco just shook his head, torn between being amused by Harry’s actions or exasperated by them.

“Come on chosen one,” Reyna said suggestively, dragging him out of the clearing onto the forest path.

The moment they were out of earshot, Harry threw a ward behind him and cast a silencing charm on it. Reyna grinned, she opened his mouth to comment, probably about how hot it was to see him do such impressive magic. But to hell with that, she was older than him, she thought he was an innocent little boy, and he would be damned if he let her believe that.

Before Rayna could say whatever it was that she was going to say, Harry grabbed her wrists and pressed her up against the thick tree they had stopped by. Reyna’s eyes widened in surprise then very quickly shone with lust. Closing the gap, Harry kissed Reyna hard, and a small huff of surprise escaped her lips.

Harry smirked against her and ran his tongue along her lip, she granted him access and deepened the kiss instantly. Harry pressed himself against her, forcing her back into the tree and making her gasp.

He broke the kiss and trailed his mouth down to her neck, pushing aside the flimsy fabric of her dress, his mouth found her shoulder. She chuckled lowly.

“As nice as this is, we both know it’s not going to go any further than a little kissing,” Reyna practically coo-ed, by Godric, she could be a condescending bitch and that pissed Harry off. He bit her shoulder, hard enough to draw blood and rather than crying out in pain, she moaned.

Harry’s cock twitched against the soft fabric of his trousers, and he knew she could feel it.

“Won’t it?” Harry asked, his voice low and rough, “You don’t think I’m capable of doing exactly what I want to you, right here?”

He let go of her wrists and hiked her short dress up, his right hand running over the soft silk of her knickers.

“You don’t think I won’t just take what I want?” Harry continued, his breath hot on her neck as those fingers slipped past the fabric, “What _did_ you think, Reyna?”

Reyna didn’t answer as Harry slid a finger into her and kept his thumb against her clit. She leant her head back against the tree and gasped.

“Did you think you would lure me out here after getting me drunk and that I would let you take control? That I would just let you suck me off in the middle of the woods?” Harry continued.

His words made Reyna moan, “How did you know that?”

“Because I’m inside your head,” Harry whispered, moving his mouth from her neck to her lips, “Every thought that flits through your head, I can hear it. I can give you exactly what you want, unlike Fawley, who treats you like a piece of meat and never lets you get any pleasure out of your encounters.”

Reyna’s brown eyes popped open and met his – they were a darker shade than usual, heavy with lust and want, “If you know exactly what I want, why aren’t you giving it to me yet?” she asked.

Harry let out a low, guttural growl and lifted her feet off the ground. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him and in one fluid movement, he had pushed her knickers aside and slid inside her.

“Fast enough for you?” Harry asked, his eyes flashing playfully at the older girl as she tried to catch her breath.

Reyna pulled his face towards her in response. She kissed him hard; it wasn’t romantic, it was a clash of teeth, a fight for power – one that Reyna almost definitely lost. The harder she fought, the harder Harry thrust into her, slamming her back against the rough bark of the oak tree. She cried out in pain every time, then moaned or gasped his name.

Harry’s mouth was against her neck again, murmuring dirty truths to her as she moaned his name like a mantra, “I would never have expected a little slut like you to be so tight,” he whispered, most women would find that demeaning but not Reyna, it was what tipped her over the edge.

Her walls tightened around his cock and Harry groaned, for the first time he had to concentrate on not cumming. He thought that was pretty good going for a novice. Reyna cried out his name loudly and _thank fuck for that silencing ward_ , he thought to himself. Her legs shook around his waist, and with a pitiful sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, her head fell onto his shoulder.

Harry pulled out of her and said, “You’re not done yet.”

Reyna opened her eyes and looked at him curiously.

“Your plan involved seducing me and sucking my cock in the forest, remember?” Harry said, putting his hands on her shoulders, “So get on your knees.”

Without a word of objection, Reyna did so. She needed no encouragement, she gripped the base of Harry’s cock and took it in her mouth, no doubt assuming that at the very least, she would get to control this part. Harry had other ideas; he grabbed her by the hair and forced her further onto his cock. She did well, almost managing to take all of it before she gagged.

“Didn’t Fawley tell you, Reyna?” Harry asked darkly, “Breathe through your nose if you don’t want to gag.”

He had mainly said it because it felt good to be condescending towards her because of how much of a bitch she could be to everyone else. But all the same, she took the advice in her stride and breathed through her nose so that the next time Harry pulled her onto his cock, it hit the back of her throat without a gag.

“Good girl,” Harry murmured, “Ravenclaws are so good at following orders; that’s why they’re my type.”

Reyna whimpered around his cock, and an involuntary groan left Harry’s lips, he wouldn’t last much longer, and Reyna, desperate to have the upper hand realised that. She swallowed around Harry’s cock, and the noise that escaped him was an entirely, involuntary guttural one.

“Fuck, Reyna,” He hissed, almost accidentally slipping into parseltongue which would have been interesting because he had never done that before. Her eyes flashed triumphantly and _fuck that,_ Harry thought, no way was she getting the upper hand now.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth as he was on the verge of cumming, and all it took was a couple of firm tugs on his cock to release the tension that had been building. He groaned and covered her face in cum and to her credit, she let him.

Harry took a step back and pulled his trousers back up while Reyna searched for her wand on the dark ground. When she found it the first spell she uttered was, “ _Scourgify.”_

“I’m not your boyfriend, Reyna,” Harry said, buttoning his trousers up, “I don’t know why you expected me to fuck you like he does.”

Reyna fixed her hair and looked Harry dead in the eye, “Who says I wanted you to?” she asked, her voice dripping with lust.

She took a step towards Harry and stopped an inch away from him, “Happy birthday, Harry. We should do this again sometime,” she said with a wink.

Harry turned around and took the ward down with a single flick of his wand. He cocked his head and watched her from behind as she stalked back to the clearing, _yes we should_ , he thought to himself.

* * *

When they re-emerged in the clearing, it was to complete and utter carnage. Blaise and Emilia had resumed their former activities while Harry and Reyna had disappeared and there were now some somewhat suspect noises coming from behind a bush.

Reyna rolled her eyes, “At least we had the decency to find somewhere private.”

“That was more for your decency than mine,” Harry said, flashing her a grin and looking around the clearing for Draco and Theo. Neither of the boys was anywhere to be seen, which worried Harry slightly.

He voiced this opinion to Reyna as she swigged the dregs from the bottle of whiskey, “They probably just went home,” she had responded.

Harry glanced down at his watch, it was quarter to midnight, and there was no way he was getting crucio-ed again for being late.

“I better go,” Harry said, and this time, Reyna didn’t make a single comment about the Dark Lord treating him like Cinderella or about him having to do what his master said.

That made Harry smirk, “So all it takes to stop you from mouthing off is to fuck you into submission?” he murmured into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “I’ll remember that the next time you get too bold.”

Reyna’s eyes flashed, “You’re just like him. You know, don’t you? You’re a monster.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed, “Does that deter you?”

Something different flashed in her eyes, something new.

“No,” Reyna answered quietly.

“Good,” Harry said, backing away from her and parting with one last smirk. He made his way along the forest path, keeping an eye out for Draco as he did so.

Harry was nearing the edge of the woods when a low groan distracted him. He paused, wondering where the sound was coming from. He could have lied to himself; he could have said that he had paused in case it was a sound of pain. But Harry wasn’t stupid; he knew that it was a sound of arousal and it was curiosity that made him veer off the main path towards the sound. He peered past the stone circle into a small graveyard, Draco had said it was a pet cemetery – he called it creepy and noted that no one went there.

Clearly, that had been a lie because Draco was there right now. He was leaning against a stone mausoleum that had seen better days, his trousers around his ankles and his cock buried deep in Theo’s mouth. His eyes were shut, his right hand lost in Theo’s hair as he thrust into his friend's mouth.

Harry, for all his objections and his minor freak out when Draco had tried to kiss him, could not tear his eyes away from the sight. His feet were glued to the ground, his eyes on the contented look on Draco’s face as he thrust rhythmically into his friend's mouth. Draco groaned softly, not the guttural noise that Harry had made with Reyna but a soft, fond noise which was somehow hotter. Harry’s cock twitched against the fabric of his trousers, and it took everything he had to stop himself from making a sound, it was still sensitive from his earlier activities with Reyna.

Draco opened his eyes and groaned, pushing his hips forward with more aggression than Harry had thought he was capable of. He threw his head back and caught sight of Harry lurking in the shadows. Harry had a brief panic attack when Draco’s eyes met his across the graveyard, but then he saw lust shining in those dark grey eyes, and that made him swallow hard.

Draco tightened his grip on Theo’s hair, and the dark-haired boy groaned around his cock. That was enough to tip Draco over the edge as he thrust into the other boy's mouth hard, not taking his eyes off of Harry’s until he was forced to throw his head back.

Harry was mortified that he had watched that, and that he had gotten hard from doing so. He scampered away in a hurry and managed by some miracle, to get to his bedroom at 2 minutes to midnight.

Unsurprisingly, Voldemort was sitting in the armchair by the fire. His eyes on the watch that he wore on his left wrist, a remarkably similar watch to Harry’s.

“You were almost late.”

Harry let out a breath and nodded, “But I wasn’t.”

“No, but you have been shielding against me all evening,” Voldemort said. He looked up at Harry carefully, “How have you done that I wonder? Surely you cannot have become so proficient in Occlumency that you can keep even me, out?”

“No,” Harry said grudgingly, “Lucius gave me a birthday present.”

He reached inside his ear and pulled out the small emerald beetle. He held it in the palm of his hand, “He thought it would be a welcome break from your prying if I used it every once in a while.”

“Hmm,” The Dark Lord hummed, “I will admit, it was a pleasant reprieve this evening – your clumsy thoughts not intruding into my head while I attempted to read. However, this device could enable you to betray me.”

“I wouldn’t, my lord,” Harry promised, “I swore under an unbreakable vow-”

Voldemort waved his hand, “Cunning, smart people can beat unbreakable vows. There is always a loophole; you know that – Augustus is training you well.”

A flash of guilt shot through Harry at that.

Voldemort felt it and raised an eyebrow at the young man, “Anyway, I shall permit this device but under the condition that you show me a snippet of what you were doing this evening so I know that you are not using it to scheme against me.”

Harry smirked, “Oh, you want to see what I was doing tonight? Sure thing, Tom.”

Voldemort looked notably surprised; he had not expected Harry to be so open to the idea. Harry thought about Reyna, about the look of surprise in _her_ eyes when she had seen what he was capable of.

The Dark Lord sighed, “That is enough of that. I suppose you think you are very smart, following my orders implicitly while knowing how uncomfortable it would make me feel?”

Harry shrugged, “I feel a bit smart, yes.”

“Be grateful that I will not punish you this time,” Voldemort said dryly, “But next time I ask to see your memories, I expect a little common courtesy.”

“Yes, my lord,” Harry said, fighting back his amused grin.

“And stop smiling like an idiot, Harry,” Voldemort said as he rose to his feet. He swept across the floor and pulled open the door handle. Then he turned and smirked at Harry, his eyes glistening with amusement, “Enjoy your morning class with Augustus tomorrow. I once heard you utter that there is no honour amongst Death Eaters and you are quite right. I value you highly, but I value Augustus more, and he would be within his rights if he accidentally maimed you in a duel tomorrow morning. I do believe he wished to give you a master class in cutting curses.”

The colour drained from Harry’s face, and Voldemort smiled falsely, “Good night, Harry,” he said, snapping the door shut behind him, “Sleep well,” he called from the corridor outside.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry muttered, sinking onto his bed.

Augustus – Gus, his mentor.

He had fucked Augustus’s daughter, worse than that; he had defiled Augustus’s daughter, his youngest daughter, his baby girl. He let his head drop into his hands.

“Fuck!” He cursed again.

_Let this be a lesson to you,_ Voldemort’s voice said clearly inside his head, _Avoid defiling any more of my Death Eaters children. That does include Draco, I have seen how he has been looking at you for the entire summer._

Harry tried so hard not to think about Draco, to block out every thought of Draco that he had, to think about slimy little 11-year-old Draco, the arrogant prick that he was. But Voldemort could tell that he was trying to veer his mind off track to avoid the most recent memory resurfacing.

_Perhaps he is more like his father than I thought. Would you agree?_

Harry swallowed and screwed his eyes shut as he focused hard on the memory of himself and Draco on their detention in the Forbidden Forest, way back in first year. It turned out that was a bad idea because that forest morphed into the woodland on Malfoy Manor's grounds.

_Apparently so,_ Voldemort thought dryly, _Your idle thoughts about my handsomeness when I take the form of my former self make sense now. When you were thinking about how much you liked Tom Riddle the other day, that was not what I thought you meant._

Harry grimaced, _That wasn’t what I meant! I think of you in a respectful, older, authority figure way._ And I most definitely don’t have Daddy issues, or abandonment issues, a little voice at the back of his head said. Harry cursed that voice and slapped himself in the face.

“Oh my god,” He muttered out loud, _No, look, I don’t think of you that way, I swear._

He could have sworn he heard a chuckle outside of his door.

_I know you do not. I am in your head, remember? Consider that my revenge for how uncomfortable you made me feel earlier._

_Yeah, fair enough,_ Harry thought, his cheeks burning red, _Goodnight then. I’m going to put this ear beetle in so you don’t have to see the inevitably raunchy dreams I’m going to have about Death Eaters children tonight._

_Thank you, a night without your idle ramblings, and bizarre dreams does sound rather pleasant._

Harry shoved the beetle in his ear and sighed in relief as his mind went blank. Sharing your head with a Dark Lord when you were a horny teenage boy was both tiresome and humiliating.

*** TBC ***


	14. The Kids Are All Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ministry is seized, and Harry has his own personal victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Centuries by Fall Out Boy.

Breakfast the following morning was interesting. Harry walked into the morning room and smiled at the three Malfoy’s around the table. He sat down in his usual seat and grabbed an apple. Draco looked up at him, and Harry caught his eye.

“Good morning, Draco,” Harry chirped, grinning at the blonde and taking a large bite out of the fruit.

Draco’s cheeks flushed, “Morning, Potter,” he said, looking away from Harry and standing from the table, “Excuse me Mother, Father – I have things to do.”

He positively ran from the room, and Narcissa watched him with concern.

Lucius, on the other hand, turned his gaze to Harry, “Care to explain why your presence made my son run from the room in alarm, Potter?”

Harry smirked and got to his feet, “Look back on what you did late at night in the woods with Fitzroy Mulciber when _you_ were 17, Lucius. I think you will find the answers you are looking for.”

Lucius looked mildly disgusted, “I thought he had better taste.”

“Lucius!” Narcissa scolded, “He is practically the Dark Lord’s heir, do not say such things.”

Harry smirked at the older man, “You’re right, he does _think_ he has better taste but do we class Theodore Nott as better than me? Oh, I don’t know – I definitely don’t,” he rambled as he opened the door into the grounds.

“Oh and the Dark Lord thanks you for your birthday gift to me!” Harry added as he stepped outside, “It turns out that there are things that he doesn’t want to see, me being a 17-year-old boy and all.”

With a grin that was far too mischievous, Harry shut the door and wandered towards the maze, idly stroking a peacock on the head as he did so.

“Whatever he did in the woods with Theodore Nott-”

“He knows the rules,” Narcissa cut in, “He will not involve himself with another Death Eater. Whatever happened, it will not happen again.”

“You had better make sure of that,” Lucius snapped, “I may have been frivolous in my youth before we married, but the stakes were not so high then.”

“I know, and I will remind him,” Narcissa promised her husband, “Remain calm. Today is an important day for us; today is the day that we take the Ministry.”

Lucius took a calming breath and nodded, “Yes. Just talk to him.”

“I will,” Narcissa said, more firmly than the last time.

Lucius got the hint and promptly dropped the subject.

* * *

Harry’s amusement at Draco’s level of awkwardness around him that morning, did not last long. Despite his flyboy attitude, he had spent a large chunk of the previous night tossing and turning, dreading his morning class with Augustus.

And as it turned out, rightfully so. The moment Harry stepped into the library, the door snapped shut behind him. He jumped and turned around, just in time to see a cutting curse heading straight for him. It skimmed the top of his head and cut off a few locks of hair.

Augustus laughed, “First part of the lesson – always be prepared, always be on your guard.”

“Constant vigilance,” Harry said weakly as he took a cautious step into the room, “Morning Rookwood – I mean Gus.”

Augustus raised an eyebrow, “Rookwood?”

“Sorry, just a bit tired this morning,” Harry said without meeting his mentor's eye.

“Bit too much to drink last night?”

“Yeah,” answered Harry, evasively.

“Anything to do with that bottle of Ogden’s Reyna thought I hadn’t noticed her stealing?”

Harry cleared his throat, _Reyna_ , god, how had he done _that_ with Reyna last night?

“Uh, maybe, yeah.”

“Any reason why you can’t look me in the eye?” Augustus asked, and Harry noticed the change in his tone immediately. He almost wished that Pollux was still his babysitter, that he was sitting at table chuckling at Harry’s expense but ready to jump up and help him.

But he wasn’t there; Harry was alone with Gus. He didn’t need a babysitter now - he was 17. He had proven himself to Voldemort when he killed Moody in the battle.

“I know what you and Reyna did last night,” Gus said, all traces of jovial banter were gone from his voice.

Harry swallowed, “How? How do you know?”

“How do I know?” Gus asked, spinning his wand between his fingers, his eyes fixed on Harry, “Because you might be beginning to get a grasp on Occlumency, but my daughter hasn’t. I confronted her, and it came out in a tearful guilty confession because that’s the way Reyna is. She’s her own woman, she can do what she wants, and she does, just like her mother always did. But when it comes down to it, she’s my little girl, and she hates lying to me.”

_Fuck._ Harry began to panic. _I am so fucking **dead**. _

“Do you know the last thing she said to me this morning?” Augustus asked.

Harry shook his head.

“She grabbed my hand as I was walking out of the door and said, _please don’t kill him, Daddy._ ”

Harry took a step back, “I’m sorry, Gus. I am so sorry. It was out of line, completely out of order. She’s your daughter, and I should never have…I shouldn’t have gone there.”

Gus stopped spinning his wand and instead pointed it at Harry, “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”

Before Harry had time to cast a shield charm, a cutting curse was thrown at his chest. He ducked and rolled away to avoid it. Then he managed to get a shield charm up just before another curse hit him in the arm. A third cutting curse flew at him; the light was purple this time, so Harry knew it was unshieldable. He threw himself to the side, refreshed his shield charm and cast a cutting curse of his own at Augustus. He aimed for his wrist, the one he held his wand in.

Augustus moved out of the way and finished the duel with Sectumsempra, which was both unshieldable, very difficult to heal and proof that a person meant business. The only way Harry could avoid the curse, which flew through the air faster than a standard cutting curse, was to drop to his knees and let it pass over his head.

Harry groaned at the throbbing pain in both of his kneecaps, but before he could move to get up, a heavy boot was placed on one of his legs.

“Look at me,” Augustus said, his voice low and dangerous.

Harry looked up, feeling like he was about to be executed.

“While I can acknowledge that you are a damn sight better than Stuart Fawley, I still do not want you associating with my daughter,” Augustus said, in no uncertain terms.

“If you lay a finger on her again - protection order or not - I will kill you, and I won’t do it with the killing curse. I’ll kill you like I killed Igor Karkaroff, I’ll make it slow, and I’ll make it painful.”

Harry nodded, “Understood,” he said, and he knew it was feeble.

Augustus held out his hand. Harry took it tentatively and was pulled to his feet. The older Death Eater smirked and leant back against the table that they usually worked at.

“Everything I said was completely true, but you did give me a perfect opportunity to give you a master class in how to dodge various types of cutting curses.”

Harry blew out a breath, “That was an act?”

Augustus shrugged his shoulders, “Parts of it were. I’m not going to lie, I’m pissed off, but I’ll get over it. Reyna is a big girl; she can make her own decisions and her own mistakes.”

“Still, I should have had a bit more self-restraint,” Harry reasoned, “Your friendship is important to me, Gus. I shouldn’t have jeopardised that.”

“It’s because of that apology that I won’t let it jeopardise our friendship, Harry.” Augustus said sincerely, “You’re a good kid, you’ve got a lot of potentials, and you’re going to go far. You’re just not going to sleep with my daughter while you do it.”

Harry nodded, “Agreed.”

Augustus clapped his hands, “Good. Shall we get on with this lesson then? Good job dodging Sectumsempra, by the way.”

And just like that, he was back to normal. Harry let out a relieved sigh that had been one way to get his heart racing early in the morning.

* * *

The take-over of the Ministry was due to happen in the late afternoon. Most Death Eaters were despatched to the Ministry to help with the transition. The plan was relatively simple, a coup d’etat – seize the Ministry from within, usurp those from power and kill only when necessary.

One such necessary death would be the Minister for Magic – Rufus Scrimgeour. He would not let the Ministry go down without a fight; Voldemort was sure of that. Before his political rise, the man had been an Auror, which was why Voldemort would send the Lestrange’s to deal with him. They had successfully killed or incapacitated Aurors before, after all. Voldemort anticipated a battle for control, likely in the atrium, while the Lestrange’s dealt with Scrimgeour.

Harry just hoped they wouldn’t lose any Death Eaters to the battle. He also hoped that the fact his lessons had been increasingly practical lately, meant that he would be chosen to fight in the battle.

However, at the strategy meeting that afternoon, he realised that it was not quite how things would go down. Voldemort himself led this one, with Pollux Pyrites by his side.

“Most of you will be posted to the Ministry for what I expect the light shall call a battle. If you all play your part; however, it will be a hostile coup d’etat.”

Pollux gestured to the model of the atrium on the table before them, “Crabbe – you shall be key in allowing us in. You will wait until the security wizard you are on duty with, goes for his break then you will take down the ward and let us walk right in the front door.”

Crabbe nodded in response.

Pollux continued, “Once the wards are down, you will give the signal by pressing down on your Dark Mark. At that point, everyone else will jump into action.”

“It will be close to 5 pm – the end of the working day. Everyone will be heading for the atrium to floo, walk or apparate home,” Voldemort said smoothly, “You will have the majority of the important ministry officials in one place. Rookwood – you shall take the lead on this one.”

Augustus nodded importantly, “Yes, my lord. I presume you wish me to give them the chance to surrender? To keep their jobs and accept the new leadership?”

“Precisely,” Voldemort said, “Those who subjugate themselves to us may leave peacefully. Those who remain must be brought under our control, one way or another.”

Augustus bowed his head, “Yes, my lord.”

“While this distraction takes place, Selwyn – you will lead the Lestrange’s to the Minister for Magic’s office. Torture him for any information he holds about the Order of the Phoenix then kill him, replacing him immediately with Pius Thicknesse.”

There were nods, bowed heads and an eager, “Yes, my lord,” from Bellatrix.

Voldemort continued, “When your mark burns, those of you who are deep undercover will play your part. Weasley, you will alert the Auror office to the presence of Death Eaters in the atrium. When they leave, you will go into Head Auror Robards office and proposition him. If he flees then we know he is working for the light and if he agrees to remain in his role, then we know he is with us, provisionally at least.”

Samson nodded, “Yes, my lord.”

Pollux continued with the briefing.

“Simultaneously, those of who with strategic positions within the Ministry will use them to your advantage. Higgs – you will proposition the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Rowle, you will imperius the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Warrington, you will usurp the imperiused Head of the Department of Magical Transportation. Zabini – you will attempt to talk the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation around, should you fail you will kill him. Macnair, you will use your former position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to usurp the Head, one way or another,”

All those who had been addressed nodded.

“All that remains is the Department of Mysteries,” Voldemort said, “A department we know to be dangerous and difficult to infiltrate, from past experience.”

There were nods all around from those who had served time in Azkaban following the Department of Mysteries' Battle.

“As such, we will assume control from within,” Voldemort assured them, “Gibbon, you will lock the department down when your mark burns. You will use the secret methods at your disposal to bring your colleagues around or dispose of them.”

Harry knew enough from _his_ time in the Department of Mysteries to guess what that meant. Mind control using the creepy killer brains or shoving the unwilling ones through the veil, most likely.

“Yes, my lord,” Gibbon said sincerely.

“I want my best fighters in the atrium to defeat those who stand against us,” Voldemort said quietly, but with enough gravitas to keep the room silent, “Yaxley, Jugson, Avery, the Carrow twins, Dolohov, Goyle, Malfoy Senior, Mulciber, Nott Senior and Travers.”

There were nods and sounds of approval from the Death Eaters selected.

“Severus, I am afraid that you must sit this one out,” Voldemort said, looking at the professor, “You will be named as Head of Hogwarts in due course, and I cannot risk you being injured or killed in the take-over before then.”

“Yes, my lord,” Severus said, it was hard to tell how he felt about it because as usual, his facial expressions gave nothing away.

“Pollux, you shall be by my side for the take-over,” Voldemort said, giving his closest advisor a nod.

Harry wasn’t going to lie; he was a bit miffed that he hadn’t been selected. But he wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud.

“We shall launch an attack on the Order and their safe houses the moment we seize the Department of Magical Transportation,” Voldemort said quietly, “There are some residences that we cannot touch. Although Hestia Jones is associated with the Order, we cannot attack the Jones residence, nor the Shacklebolt residence. Kingsley has married a Jones, and if we attack now, we lose any chance we might have of bringing the neutral family onto our side. They control the wizarding population of Wales; we must coerce them onto our side.”

Several Death Eaters nodded or hummed with approval or agreement.

“We cannot touch the Burrow, the home of the Prewett-Weasleys,” Voldemort continued, and at this, the Death Eaters made noises of disapproval.

“Quiet!” Voldemort snapped.

Silence fell instantly, and the Dark Lord spoke once more, “William Weasley shall be joining our ranks on the August moon. His condition was that his family residence be spared in the August Eve attacks so we must not touch the home of the Prewett-Weasley’s.”

Another scattering of, “Yes my lords,” went around the room.

“Crouch, you shall go to Diggle residence. If he resists, kill him and destroy his home,” Pollux told Julian Crouch who nodded in response.

“Fawley, you will take Narcissa Malfoy to the Tonks residence,” Voldemort said, his eyes finding Lucius’s.

“Should she fail to convince her sister to reconsider her loyalties, I will allow you to hurt her and her Mudblood but do not kill them. The Black family line is very close to extinction, after all.”

“Yes, my lord,” Stuart Fawley said.

“My lord,” Lucius said quietly, “Must you involve my wife in-”

“Quiet, Lucius!” Voldemort barked, louder this time, with more urgency.

Lucius shut his mouth straight away, but the fear in his eyes was enough to make Voldemort’s scarlet eyes glint maliciously.

“If your wife is as loyal a servant as she claims to be, she will have no qualms with visiting the sister that Bellatrix claims she had not seen in years.”

Narcissa cleared her throat and nodded, “Yes, my lord. Forgive my husband’s outburst; I can carry out this task.”

_Of course, you can, Narcissa. You have more balls than your pathetic husband._

Harry bit back an amused grin. That was the first time that Voldemort’s thoughts had bled through into Harry’s head like that. It was unusual, Voldemort was usually so closely guarded.

“Malfoy and Nott Junior,” Voldemort addressed them, “And Potter.”

Draco, Theo and Harry all looked up at the Dark Lord.

“You will attack the home of Elphias Doge,” Voldemort ordered, “If the old man does not have a heart attack the moment you break into his home, kill him.”

“Yes, my lord,” Harry said, gritting his teeth as he realised that he was going to have to spend a great deal of time staked outside of Doge’s house with Draco and Theo.

Voldemort almost smirked as he caught Harry’s eye, _You will learn that your actions have consequences, Harry._

_Touche,_ Harry thought irritably.

* * *

It took half an hour for Theo’s resolve to break. Harry had expected it to be longer, Draco had expected it to be less than that.

Half an hour into their ‘stake-out’ which consisted of them being disillusioned in a lane outside Elphias Doge’s house – Theo sighed and asked, “Right, what the fuck is going on with you two? Every time you accidentally touch, you curse at each other, and the last time I saw you, you were basically BFF’s.”

Draco rolled his eyes, which nobody saw, of course.

“He saw us last night.”

There was a stunted silence, “He what?”

“ _Saw_ us,” Draco said, they could tell that he was talking through gritted teeth, “And he watched.”

Theo snorted, “So you’re a peeping tom now, Potter?”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Just appreciate a fine thing when I see it.”

“Which one of us are you referring to?” Theo asked, and it wasn’t entirely in jest either.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harry asked smoothly.

Draco kicked him from the nearby bush he was sitting behind, “You acted like a deer in the headlights when I tried to kiss you on Midsummer. I was under the impression that you were staunchly straight.”

“So was I until about quarter to midnight last night,” Harry retorted.

Draco scoffed, “No, you weren’t. Reyna’s little spell when we played Never Have I Ever? It’s one of her fathers. It’s low-level mind magic mixed with compulsion charms, it filled your glass, implying you had doubted your sexuality _before_ you saw Theo and I last night.”

“Fine, I did,” Harry admitted, “And not just when you tried to snog me, that did freak me out, you’re right.”

“I knew you were flirting with me,” Draco hissed, “And you made me sound crazy.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“You can jump each other’s bones when we’re not hiding in the bushes about to attack an innocent old dude,” Theo said from the other side of the lane.

“Okay for starters, he’s not innocent, nobody who was friends with Dumbledore is,” Harry pointed out.

“Secondly, I would only jump his bones if there were no other bones left on earth because as much as it pains me to admit it, Draco – you’re practically my family now.”

“Wow, Harry, that’s-”

“Don’t make a sarcastic remark,” Harry muttered, “And thirdly, there will be no jumping of bones, by anyone. I got in enough shit for sleeping with Reyna last night. The Dark Lord made it clear that Death Eaters and Death Eaters children are out, so that rules out both of you.”

“My mother made the same thing clear to me,” Draco said quietly, “And with the Dark Lord hiding out in my house, I’m inclined to do what he wants. Sorry Theo, you’ll have to find someone else to mess around with.”

Theo scoffed, “Since when do you two play by the rules?”

“Since the Dark Lord invented a way to make my brain feel like it’s melting just by pressing my scar,” Harry replied dryly, “What about you, Draco?”

“Since the Dark Lord started using the cruciatus curse on me for failing him,” Draco said darkly, “Be lucky that you’ve been sheltered from it until now, Theo.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement which was utterly pointless because he knew that neither could see him. At that point, their marks all burned. Theo hissed in pain, his being newer and rawer than Harry and Draco’s.

“That’s our cue,” Harry whispered. He got to his feet, breathed in deeply and focused his magical energy as Augustus had taught him.

_“Finite Incantatem!”_

Orange sparks exploded out of his wand and hit the wards around Doge’s house with quite some force. The single spell brought the wards raining down, and the three boys took their disillusionment charms off.

“Well, that was fucking amazing,” Theo remarked.

Harry smirked as Draco placed an Anti-Disapparation Jinx on the house and Theo locked the floo network.

“I’ve never done anything that powerful before,” Harry admitted as the three boys strolled up to the house together, “I guess there is some truth in what Gus said about your magical power ‘unlocking’ when you turn of age.”

“Obviously,” Draco deadpanned.

They reached the door, and Theo blasted it open. Harry wasn’t sure what to expect, but it hadn’t been Elphias Doge standing in the entrance hall with his wand trained on the doorway. He cast a spell that made the arch of the door begin to disintegrate, but the three boys ducked or rolled out of the way before the falling masonry could hit them.

Harry laughed, “Really think you can take on all three of us, old man?”

Elphias conjured up a fire whip, and Harry uttered a curse word under his breath, “So you learned something from your old pal, Dumbledore.”

“It’s weak though,” Theo pointed out, and he was right. He could cast the spell, but he didn’t have the power.

“ _Glacius_!”

Harry’s spell created a small flurry, Theo cottoned on to what he was doing quicker than Draco did and pointed his wand at the flurry, “ _Ventus Duo!”_

The powerful spell whipped up the snow, distinguishing the fire. It took both Harry and Theo a second to recover from such powerful attacks, and in that time, Elphias threw a cutting curse at Harry.

Draco saw its trajectory, and the purple light told him that it wasn’t shieldable. He grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him hard, out of the way of the curse. It blasted into a portrait instead, slashing it into pieces, as if several knives had hit it at once.

The force that Draco had pulled him with made Harry topple over, right onto the blonde boy.

Surprisingly, a shout came from behind them from the person amongst them who Harry had thought was least likely to kill Doge.

“ _Orbis_!”

The dark curse made the ground underneath Doge crack. He cried out and tried to move away, but tendrils of earth gripped his ankles and sucked him into the floor, screaming all the while. The moment his head disappeared, the ground closed back up, leaving only one tell-tale crack.

Harry breathed out in relief and looked down at Draco, “Thanks.”

Draco let out a shallow breath, “You’re welcome.”

Theo looked at them in disbelief, “You two douchebags going to thank me since I saved both of your arses?”

Harry pushed off of Draco and clapped Theo on the shoulder, “Thanks, Theo. You had our back there.”

Draco nodded and accepted Harry’s outstretched hand. Harry pulled the blonde boy up from the ground and let go of him. Draco pulled Theo into a brief hug and patted him on the back, “Thanks, mate.”

“That was bloody impressive,” Harry said, kicking the ground where Doge had disappeared, “I had no idea you had it in you.”

Theo smirked, “Not just a pretty face, huh?” he followed it up with a wink.

“Apparently not,” Harry responded. He clapped Theo on the shoulder once more and looked around the entrance hall, “Shall we have a little peruse in Doge’s study before we light this place up?”

“That’s not what the Dark Lord said,” Theo pointed out, “He said to deal with Doge then burn the house down.”

“I know what the Dark Lord said, but I hate Dumbledore, and I suspect he was up to a lot more than just fucking up my life,” Harry said matter of factly, “The Dark Lord hates him just as much, trust me.”

Theo looked like he wanted to object.

“Harry is as good as the Dark Lords heir,” Draco said quietly, “That watch he gave him for his seventeenth says it all. If he says that the information will be worth it, then he’s probably right.”

“Okay,” Theo said, “But let’s check the study, light this place up and get the hell out of here.”

“Good plan,” Harry agreed, striding ahead into a small library/study.

* * *

The celebrations at Malfoy Manor that night were tremendous. Everyone was in high spirits; the Ministry was theirs. Voldemort was holding a meeting the following day to dish out some new jobs and in some cases, promotions. Those who had been the most loyal would reap the best rewards because that was the way he operated and nobody could argue that it wasn’t fair.

Theo had been given the highest praise when Harry and Draco informed Voldemort of how he had disposed of Doge. Voldemort had shaken the young Death Eaters hand, and Theo’s father, Alfred, full of pride had hugged his son. Harry wasn’t sure who looked more shocked, Alfred or Theo.

Harry cocked his head at the boy in question. He was drinking firewhiskey with his father, a sight that would not be unusual for most boys his age, but from what Harry knew – Theo and his father had always been at odds. Alfred had consistently underestimated Theo; he had never thought he would make it as a Death Eater. Theo, sadly enough, just seemed delighted to have finally been accepted, to have finally proven himself.

In other news - Julian Crouch had been less successful. Diggle hadn’t been in when his house was attacked, so it was burned to the ground instead.

Narcissa Malfoy seemed a little more reserved than usual, something that Draco had immediately noticed and as such, he had barely left her side all evening. Ted Tonks had been forced to go on the run after his visitation from his sister-in-law and Stuart Fawley. Narcissa had tried in vain to convince Andromeda to renounce the light, to switch sides. Still, Andromeda had not relented, and Harry suspected that Narcissa had been forced to watch Fawley torture her sister for information on the Order.

The Ministry coup had gone wonderfully with only a few officials and Aurors killed, the rest had converted before the battle or had conceded defeated and done so immediately after. They had not lost a single man, but a couple were missing from the party because of injuries that they had sustained.

Harry caught the eye of Felix Rosier across the grounds. He should have known that he wasn’t wholly straight when he lay eyes on that man at his fathers funeral. The first thought that had gone through his head was that he was handsome and muscular, not terms that straight men tended to attribute to other men.

Felix crossed the garden and handed Harry a glass, “I hear you had a victory of your own today?”

Harry smiled and accepted the drink, “Yes, but it had nothing to do with me. Theodore Nott showed his true colours tonight; I guess he’s more like his father than any of us realised.”

Felix sipped his whiskey, “It often takes something ground-breaking to make a man realise that.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, “That’s profound.”

Felix shrugged, “I have thought on your offer over the past couple of days, and in light of your recent accomplishment, I concur that, with or without me, you will win this war.”

Harry eyed Felix with interest, “Yes.”

“So I will only join if there is something in it for me,” Felix said, “Unlike Bill Weasley, I do not care much for protection. I have always been more fond of dragons than humans; there is only one need that must be fulfilled by a human, and my fellow dragon trainers are often happy enough to assist with that.”

Harry chuckled, his suspicions about Charlie had always been right then.

“I will join, and I will convince Charlie to join me,” Felix said, “But under the condition that the Dark Lord employs us as dragon riders. We will hunt, we will perform aerial surveillance, but we will not kill, not humans anyway.”

Harry thought on that for a moment, “I think I can oblige with that. The Dark Lord will require you to kill a sacrifice during the initiation ritual, but if directly killing is your concern, I am sure he would allow your selected dragons to do the deed for you.”

“Our selected dragons?” Felix asked.

“Yes, the one you will ride in battle,” Harry said, “I presume you want protection for the other dragons native to Britain? A reserve, far away and very much protected from Muggles?”

“Yes, that was my other condition,” Felix confessed.

Harry nodded and looked over at the Dark Lord, “I am sure we can clear some islands of Muggles for that purpose.”

_How very cruel, Harry. Are you clearing muggles from their homes to gain a new follower?_

Harry smirked, as Felix said, “Yes, that sounds reasonable.”

_Not just a follower, Tom. Two followers, two dragon riders. Nobody has had dragon riders since Grindelwald._

Voldemort smirked across the garden, _Indeed._

Harry held his hand out to Felix, “You are certain you can get Charlie on board before the August moon?”

“I am certain,” Felix replied, his lips quirking into a sly smile.

“Then swear it,” Harry said.

Felix cast a standard vow and took Harry’s hand, “I swear that myself, and Charles Weasley, will join the Dark Lords ranks in the August full moon initiation ceremony, under the conditions I have laid out this evening.”

Harry dropped his hand and smiled broadly, “Pleasure to have you onboard, Felix.”

The dark-haired, tanned man walked away, and Harry couldn’t help but grin triumphantly, _Damn, I’m good at this._

_I made you Head of Recruitment for a reason, Harry,_ the amused voice said inside his head.

Harry chuckled to himself. For the first time in his life, he was good at something. He was learning; he was rising through the ranks; he had a family. By Merlin, how he wished he had seen Dumbledores true colours sooner.

_I gather you have something of his?_

Harry looked over at the Dark Lord, _Yes. Papers, letters between Elphias Doge and Dumbledore. I had an elf deposit them in your study. I thought we could study them together before the August Moon?_

Voldemort bowed his head, _Of course. I shall summon you when I have time to spare._

_Thank you, my lord,_ Harry said as he sipped his firewhiskey and let out a contented sigh.

*** TBC ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and continue with updates as much as I can, but if I'm a bit slow to update or in replying to comments, it is because I've now got a preschooler to home-school amongst lockdown 2.0!
> 
> Thanks, hope you like the latest update! :)


	15. Blood in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, we switch the perspective of the Prewett branch of the Weasley family, for context (and family drama).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * WARNING *   
> \- Explicit gay sex scene in this chapter. The tags have been updated appropriately. You can skip it if you want because it's not Harry therefore not that important to the story. 
> 
> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson.

**MEANWHILE ON**

**“Keeping Up With the Prewett-Weasley’s.”**

**_2 nd August 1997._ **

****

The air in the Burrow should have been carefree, happy even. Bill had gotten married the previous day. He and Fleur were packing up, ready to disappear to France for a week to celebrate and relax.

However, in light of the newspaper report that morning, the air was anything but light or happy. Fred and George were whispering together in the living room, no doubt planning their escape from the family home now that the wedding was over, as per Bill’s terms. Ron and Ginny were playing wizards chess on the other side of the room, utterly oblivious to the twins and their mother's discontent. Hermione was trying her best to stay out of it, her nose buried in a book as usual.

Charlie was outside feeding the chickens, and Bill had just made himself a cup of coffee when all hell kicked off. His parents were standing close together in the kitchen; they whispered and glanced at each other with concern every few minutes. Bill felt a tight knot form in his stomach; he knew why. He knew what would happen next.

“What’s up, Dad?” Bill asked, managing to keep his voice neutral and calm.

“The Ministry has fallen,” Arthur said, loud enough for everyone else to hear.

This news drew the other kids in from the living room, “What?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, I couldn’t ‘ear you,” George said, pointing at his bandaged head.

Molly didn’t smile at George’s joke; she didn’t even look Fred in the eye. She hadn’t been able to ever since the Battle of Privet Drive. Charlie slipped into the kitchen from the garden and looked around warily.

Arthur sighed and put the newspaper down, “Scrimgeour is dead, Pius Thicknesse has been named as Minister for Magic in his place. More news is to follow, according to the vague report in the prophet.”

The room was silent. The Ministry had fallen, that was a massive blow for them and an enormous gain for Voldemort.

“Is Percy alright?” Ginny asked.

All eyes turned to look at the youngest member of the family. How was it that she was the only one to think of Percy?

Molly’s eyes filled with tears, “I don’t know. They didn’t name the dead but…”

“He’ll be fine,” Bill said firmly, his eyes meeting Charlie’s as he stood by the back door, “He’ll probably go along with Voldemort’s regime and use it to get the promotion he’s always wanted.”

Nobody argued, because deep down they knew that it was true.

“The Death Eaters attacked several order safe houses last night,” Arthur said, and Bill’s heart began to pound so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest, “Daedalus Diggle wasn’t at home, but somebody burned his house down. Elphias Doge is missing, and someone burned his house down too. They attacked the Tonks’s house, Ted was forced to go on the run for resisting arrest and Andromeda was tortured, but she’s alive.”

Molly looked around the room, “But they didn’t attack us, and surely they know that this is the new headquarters for the Order?”

“Maybe they have more common curtsey than we think,” George joked, “Decided it was bad form to attack a bloke on his wedding day?”

Fleur crossed her arms from where she was standing by the door into the hall, “That is not funny, George.”

Molly crossed her arms too, “Fleur is right, there is nothing funny about this. We were the only household not to be touched.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Arthur cut in, “They didn’t attack Kingsley or any of the Jones residences.”

“Or Remus,” Ron added.

“Remus has no permanent address, they wouldn’t have been able to find him,” Bill said offhandedly.

“And they couldn’t attack McGonagall which is good,” Charlie said thoughtfully, “Means they haven’t got Hogwarts yet.”

Arthur nodded, “I think even Voldemort knows that attacking the Jones family is a bad idea. They are the largest and oldest wizarding family in Wales; they have huge respect. I suspect Voldemort wants them on his side.”

“And Kingsley’s wife was a Jones,” Molly pointed out, “So we _are_ the exception here.”

“Why wouldn’t they attack us?” Ron asked with a frown, “If they knew the address, that would cancel the protections on the house, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would,” Molly said, “Which means that someone made a deal.”

“A what?” Fred scoffed, “With Voldemort? Mum, are you for real?”

Molly glared at him; it was the first time she had looked at him since Greyback had bitten him, “How else do you explain the fact we were untouched? I wouldn’t put it past your father to make a deal to ensure the wedding went smoothly.”

“Me?” Arthur asked in disbelief, “You are the ambitious one who has always wanted to better this family. It’s more likely that you made a deal.”

“I would never make a deal!” Molly snapped, “He murdered my brothers!”

The room went deathly quiet for a moment until Ron broke it with a stupid comment, “It was Percy, obviously.”

Hermione frowned, “Percy? Why would you automatically assume that it was Percy? Working for the Ministry doesn’t automatically make him a Death Eater.”

“Oh, I suppose you know who it is then, Hermione?” Ginny asked irritably, “You with your big brain?”

“Leave Hermione out of this,” Fred said, “She doesn’t want to be dragged into this any more than Fleur does.”

Ron scoffed, “Yeah? How do we know it wasn’t you who sold us out, Hermione? Everyone knows about your stupid crush on Harry. You’d follow him anywhere.”

Hermione’s eyes glinted dangerously, and her right hand twitched as she fought the urge to grab her wand, “Fuck you, Ronald,” she hissed.

Fred and George shared an amused look. Neither of them had ever heard perfect Hermione Granger curse before.

Hermione took a step towards Ron, “I would follow Harry almost anywhere but not after he lied to me and shut me out. You are the weak link in the trio, the Pettigrew who would do whatever it took to get out of Harry’s shadow.”

Ron reached for his wand, but George grabbed him and yanked it out of his hand.

“She’s right,” He said, “I think it was you too.”

“So do I,” Fred echoed.

Before Ron could fly off the handle, George turned to the family's youngest member, “Who do you think it was, Ginny?”

Ginny bit her lip and looked up, “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Charlie.”

“What?” Charlie barked.

Bill looked at their little sister in disbelief.

“You only care about Bill!” Ginny snapped, “He’s the only one of us who you have ever cared about. You would do anything to protect him. You never came home to visit us, but you went to Egypt to visit Bill, and he was always in Romania with you.”

“Did it ever cross your mind that I didn’t come home to visit you because none of you bothered visiting me?” Charlie asked angrily, “Bill was the only one who made a damn effort, so I returned the favour. But you lot? You just made jokes about how I’d run away to Romania, how I liked dragons more than humans and do you know what? I do! You don’t get this drama with dragons, if there’s a weak link in the family group the others kill it and eat it.”

“See?” Ginny exclaimed, “He’s talking about killing us, it’s obviously him!”

“Oh for fuck sakes, Ginny!” Charlie yelled, “You’re nearly 16, grow the fuck up!”

“Charlie!” Molly cut in, “Don’t you dare talk to your sister like that.”

“I can’t talk to her like that, but you’re going to just stand there and let her accuse me of being a fucking Death Eater?” Charlie fumed.

“You are a grown man, you know better,” Arthur pointed out.

Charlie scoffed, “Poor little Gin, right? Poor little stupid Ginny that spoke to a cursed book and let Voldemort possess her. Why is no one asking if it’s Ginny? She’s lovesick enough for Harry to follow him to the dark side!”

Bill felt sick. He caught Fleur’s eye across the room, and she gave him a small nod.

“Enough!” Bill roared.

The outburst of anger made the windows rattle. It extinguished all of the candles, and they all felt the wave of magic that came from Bill. It shocked them all into silence.

“It was me!” Bill confessed, “I made the deal, I ensured the wedding would be protected, and as of the August moon, I will be a Death Eater.”

The room remained silent. Molly looked at her firstborn in horror, and everyone else looked at Bill in disbelief.

“I didn’t make a deal with Voldemort. I made it with Harry-”

“That fucking bastard,” Ron began to say.

“Shut up, Ron!” Bill snapped, the windows rattling again.

Ron shut his mouth straight away.

“I did it for _my_ family. I did it for my wife and the babies we’re going to be having in six months. I did it because the world they are trying to make is a better one and I don’t expect most of you to understand that but-” he looked at the twins, “I think some of you believe that too and I know that one of you does,” his eyes fell on Charlie.

Charlie shook his head, “Bill-”

“It’s done, Charlie,” Bill ground out, “I made the Unbreakable Vow. If I don’t take the mark on the August moon, I die, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to meet my twin children.”

Molly shook her head, “No, Bill. We can find a way around this, if Harry were to die that would break the connection-”

“Nobody is killing Harry to save me,” Bill said firmly, “Fleur and I made the decision together; there’s no going back now.”

Molly shot Fleur a vindictive look, “So it’s _her_ fault? Of course, it is, I knew she was bad news from the moment you told me about her-”

“Shut up,” Bill said, his voice low, quiet and dangerous.

“She has never been good enough for you,” He continued, pointing at his mother, his blue eyes boring into hers.

“Her father is in line to be the next French Minister, and her grandmother is in control of the French Veelas. Fleur’s French family have done nothing but shun her for marrying a lowly English blood traitor, but she doesn’t care because she loves me so if you say one word about her, _one word mum¸_ I will walk out of that door and I will _never_ come back.”

“Good,” Molly spat vindictively, “I don’t want you to.”

Bill pushed off the counter and looked at his wife, “We’re going.”

Fleur nodded and crossed the kitchen to join him. She took his outstretched hand and shot a hateful look at Molly as Bill pulled her towards the door.

“Bill,” Arthur said, his voice harsh and rough with emotion.

Bill opened the door and nudged Fleur out of it. Then he turned to look at his father, “What?”

“Congratulations,” Arthur said as tears rolled down his cheeks, “About my grandchildren.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Bill said, his voice a little quieter and softer than it had been for a while. He looked at his siblings, “The light isn’t what it seems, and I hope you all realise that before it’s too late.”

He looked directly at Charlie, his eyes meeting his brother’s identical blue ones, “You know where I am if you have any doubts and I…Merlin, Charlie, I hope you can see that I’m right because if I lose you,” he shook his head.

Charlie cleared his throat, “You won’t lose me, Bill. I just can’t follow you blindly into this one. I need to make my own decision.”

Bill gave him a terse nod, “I’m doing this for my family, but you know that I love you, right?”

“I know,” Charlie said quietly, “And I feel the same, I just…I can’t go with you.”

Bill nodded one last time and left the kitchen, shutting the door with more force than he needed to.

“Disown him,” Molly demand.

Arthur baulked, “What? No.”

“I won’t have a Death Eater in _my_ family!” Molly seethed.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief, “We already have one in _our_ family, Molly! Charlus is with Voldemort, not as a Death Eater but certainly, as a supporter and his eldest son, Samson, I know he’s a Death Eater. I recognised him in the Battle of Privet Drive, for all we know his younger son Humphrey might be too.”

“That’s not _our_ family,” Molly said stiffly.

“No, he’s _my_ brother,” Arthur said sternly, “And I won’t disown my son for choosing to believe in something different than us.”

Fred got to his feet, “If you did that, you’d have to disown me too. What’s worse, Mum? Having a Death Eater for a son or having a werewolf for one?”

Molly swallowed and looked at him, “This was not your choice, Fred. Bill made a choice.”

“Yeah, and if I were him, I’d have made the same damn one!” Fred snapped, “But I won’t have a choice, will I? I’ll never have a choice, not in what I do for a job, or in whether I have a family. Every single choice I ever had is gone apart from this one.”

Molly looked up in surprise as Fred grabbed a bag and slung it over his shoulder, “I choose to leave, and I hope to hell I never have to come back. Kindly go fuck yourself, Mum.”

George gripped his shoulder and grabbed his bag, “I’ll come with you.”

Hermione watched them walk to the door, a thought building with every step that they took. She wanted to ask, but it was bold, bolder than even she liked to be. When the twins reached the back door, Hermione jolted forward, “Can I come with you?”

Fred turned around and looked at her, incredulously, “No, of course you can’t.”

George nudged him, “Oi, don’t say that.”

“I’m a werewolf,” Fred said bitterly, “You can’t come with us. I won’t put you in danger.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at them, “And do either of you know how to brew wolfsbane?”

From the imperceptible shift in his gaze; Fred must have answered George’s unasked question.

Hermione smirked, “Didn’t think so,” she said, picking up a small, beaded bag.

“Might want to bring something more than a clutch,” George joked.

“Expansion charm,” Hermione remarked matter of factly, “Aren’t you meant to be the smart ones?”

Fred grinned, the first genuine smile that anyone had seen on his face since the attack, “Yeah, apparently so. Come on then, princess.”

Arthur looked at his wife in disbelief, “You aren’t even going to try and stop them?”

Molly said nothing.

“She doesn’t want us here, Dad,” Fred said, meeting his eye, “And we don’t want to be here. We’ll be fine; we’ll look after ourselves.”

“And we’ll look after Hermione,” George added.

Ron shook his head in disbelief, “You’re not seriously going with them? What about what _we_ need to do?”

“I guess you’ll have to do it on your own,” Hermione said, her eyes flashing, “Good luck with that.”

“You can’t tell Fred and George about the secret!” Ron hissed.

“Oh because Harry has kept it all to himself?” Hermione shrieked, “He will have told Voldemort by now so what’s the point? Wherever they were, Voldemort will have retrieved them by now, and you and I will be at the top of his hit list _because_ Harry will have told him that we’re the only two people alive who know. Do you think I’m going to saddle Fred and George with that? I would never put a price tag on their heads!”

“But you would run off with them? You hardly bloody know them!”

“I know them well enough, and right now, I fancy my chances with them more than I do with _you,”_ her last word dripped with venom.

Ron uttered a curse word under his breath, and Hermione stalked out of the house, Fred and George following her without another word.

Charlie threw down the newspaper in his hand, “I’m going back to Romania. You carry on ripping this family apart piece by piece though, Mum.”

Molly opened her mouth to object, but Charlie grabbed his rucksack and stormed out, slamming the door harder than Bill had on his way out.

Arthur shook his head and looked at his wife with more anger than Ron or Ginny had ever seen on his face, “You did this, Molly,” he said quietly before slipping out of the back door in the direction of his workshop.

* * *

**ROMANIA**

**2 nd August 1997**

Charlie had barely gotten back to Romania when he was ambushed in his cabin. He had gotten in, punched a hole in the wall and gone for a long shower with the heat up as hot as he could take it. When he stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist and his wand on the other side of the room, he froze.

Something felt off, a shift in the wards, a new scent in the air. Working with dragons had made him cautious; it had honed his senses. He held his hand out and said, “ _Accio Wand_!”

The wand flew into his hand, but before he had a chance to use it, strong arms gripped him from behind, and a familiar voice murmured, “ _Expelliarmus.”_

Charlie sighed, “Felix.”

“Long time, no see,” Felix said, letting go of the redhead and taking a step back, “How are things? How is the family?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at Felix, “Are you under the imperius curse?”

Felix stepped into the dim light so that Charlie could look into his eyes for the tell-tale signs of mind-control. He saw nothing amiss, but he couldn’t draw his eyes away from those deep, enticing brown eyes either. Felix smirked, he knew that look in Charlie’s eyes well, he knew what followed it.

Charlie grabbed his left arm and yanked the sleeve of his robe up. He looked down at the flesh there and let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding when he saw that it was clear. He dropped Felix’s arm and looked at him again, his eyes glinting playfully.

Felix’s eyes flashed mischievously in response, so Charlie grabbed the taller man and kissed him hard. Felix returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm; it was messy and quick. Charlie shrugged Felix’s robes off, they fumbled with the buttons on each other’s trousers, pushing them off and stepping out of them as Charlie shoved Felix back onto the bed.

Felix caught himself with remarkable grace, and Charlie loomed over him, his breath was shallow as his eyes raked over the other man's chest. His lips found a deep, red scar and Felix breathed in sharply.

“Charlie,” He hissed as the redheaded man pressed his hard cock against Felix’s, “Don’t be a tease; it doesn’t suit you.”

Charlie laughed, it was a low rumble in his throat, “New scar,” he said, his breath hot against Felix’s flesh.

Felix’s eyes fluttered shut as Charlie’s mouth moved lower, “Got on the wrong side of a Peruvian Vipertooth. They have sharp,” he groaned softly when Charlie took his cock in his mouth, “-claws.”

He felt Charlie chuckle around his cock and a ripple of pleasure shot through him. Charlie summoned his wand silently and used speechless magic to cast a lubrication charm. Felix knew it was coming, but he still hissed involuntarily when Charlie slipped a thick, calloused finger into his arse. His back arched, lifting off of the bed, pushing into Charlie and the redheaded man hummed appreciatively on his cock.

“Fuck,” Felix hissed, reaching down and tangling his hand in Charlie’s thick, red hair, “It’s been years Charlie, I’ve not seen you in years.”

Charlie slipped a second finger in, and Felix let out a guttural moan, “Seriously, I’ve not had sex this good in years so would you quit teasing already?”

At this, Charlie pulled his mouth off of Felix’s cock with a soft pop and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock, “The dragon trainers in Peru aren’t as good as me then?” he asked with a grin.

Felix let out a shaky groan as he pressed himself against Charlie, “Nobody is as good as you.”

Charlie’s grin widened, and he leant down to kiss Felix again. It wasn’t as hard or rough this time; there was a certain fondness to it. Felix broke the kiss when Charlie slid into him, he threw his head back against the pillows and gritted his teeth to avoid crying out Charlie’s name too loudly.

“Fuck,” He hissed. He and Charlie always had fun when they met up, but with years in-between their meetings, Felix always forgot how thick Charlie was and how much it burned when he slid into him the way he did. Charlie didn’t believe in easing; he thrust in and didn’t give Felix a chance to recover.

The redhead grabbed Felix by the back of the neck and pulled him up to kiss him. He kissed him hard again, with more desperation than he had before and as he kissed him, he thrust into him as hard as he dared.

“Fuck, Charlie,” Felix moaned when Charlie released him. He reached down to grab his cock, which was slick with precum and made a quiet complaint about how he used to be able to last longer than this.

Charlie chuckled lowly and accused the older man of getting slow in his old age – never mind that Felix was Bill’s age, therefore only a couple of years older than Charlie.

Felix didn’t have much time to contemplate that. Charlie had been with him enough times to know how to get him over the age, and in general, Charlie was an excellent lover. It was why Felix always made sure to corner him at any international event that they both had to attend. The hot hotel sex was what made the political shit bearable.

Charlie pulled out slowly then thrust back in hard, and Felix threw his head back, crying out Charlie’s name as he came, strings of cum coating his hand and his muscular stomach. Charlie wasn’t far behind him; he made a guttural sound, born out of a feral need when Felix’s arse tightened around his cock and minutes later he pulled out and spilt his cum on the older man’s stomach.

Felix mumbled a weak, “ _Scourgify,”_ and Charlie collapsed next to him on the single bed.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Charlie said, letting out a content sigh, “I nearly killed my bitch of a mother today.”

“I buried my father a few days ago,” Felix said, rolling onto his side to look at Charlie.

“Sorry,” Charlie said sheepishly, “I…I didn’t know.”

Felix sighed, “He was killed at the Battle of Privet Drive, by Kingsley Shacklebolt I think. I…I nearly didn’t go to his funeral, didn’t want to be near You-Know-Who.”

“Call him by his real name,” Charlie said irritably, “His name is-”

Felix slapped his hand over Charlie’s mouth, “Don’t. Your cousin is very close to developing an ancient form of magic for him. If it works, it will turn his name into a taboo; it will alert the caster of the spell every time someone says his name.”

“To weed out the Order,” Charlie realised, “The people brave enough to say his name.”

Felix nodded.

“And how do you know that?” Charlie asked sceptically.

“Because Death Eaters surrounded me at my fathers funeral,” Felix said with a sigh, “And one of them was very convincing.”

“No,” Charlie said quietly, “No, Felix, not you as well.”

Felix’s deep brown eyes looked at Charlie apologetically, “They aren’t the bad guys, Char-”

“Don’t call me that,” Charlie snapped, standing up and pulling on a thin, dressing gown, “The only two people who I let call me that have both just told me that they're joining _him_!”

“Well, don’t you think that we both have reasons for doing so?” Felix asked, pushing himself up in Charlie’s bed, “You’re acting like a blind Gryffindor right now!”

“Unlike like you and Bill,” Charlie seethed, “You’re acting like cowards, picking the side you think is going to win.”

“I don’t _think_ they’re going to win, Charlie,” Felix said, standing up and pulling on his trousers, “I know they’re going to win. I’ve seen their power, I’ve seen their numbers, they have the _Ministry,_ they’ll have Hogwarts by the end of the month, mark my words.”

Charlie shook his head and pushed open the window of his cabin. He leant against the ledge, breathing in the warm air and shutting his eyes, “Where did it all go so wrong? When did we start losing?”

“When even the golden boy realised that the light side wasn’t what it claimed to be,” Felix said, he took a step closer to Charlie but didn’t dare to touch him, “Harry joining the Dark Lord, that turned the tide.”

Charlie sighed but said nothing.

“Look,” Felix said softly, “Why does it matter what side we’re on? I care about dragons, the only human I give a rats arse about is you, and what does that say about me? You’re just a guy I hook up with every once in a while.”

“No Felix, we’re friends,” Charlie said, leaning out of the window, his eyes on a sizeable Hungarian horntail flying freely in the distance.

Felix took another step and pressed himself against Charlie. The redheaded man sighed, a little more softly this time and relaxed into the taller man.

“It doesn’t matter who's in government or whose in control,” Felix murmured, “All that matters are the dragons and what if this regime was going to be a damn sight better to them than the old one?”

Charlie laughed humourlessly, “Yeah because Lord – You Know Who – is so considerate to beings he considers lesser, right?”

“He’s not an idiot, Char,” Felix said, his lips against Charlie’s neck, “He’s incredibly intelligent, he knows dragons aren’t beneath us, he knows how important they are. More to the point, he realises that Muggles are the reason they are going extinct.”

Charlie remained silent, but leant back, pressing himself against Felix.

“Your brother joined up to protect his family, and because he has seen what Muggles have done to sacred magical places – tombs, stone circles, you name it, they have defiled it. He’s a powerful wizard, just like you,” Felix punctuated this with a kiss against Charlie’s shoulder blade and the redhead let a soft sigh.

“He can see what Muggles are doing to us, that they are engendering our magic. It has to stop Charlie; we need to protect ourselves; we can’t keep running away and hiding underground like this.”

Charlie swallowed and looked at the soaring dragon in the sky, “How does this help the dragons?”

“They are going to clear a group of islands and set up a reserve to breed what's left of the British dragons,” Felix promised, “We can look after dragons in our own country, we don’t have to spread ourselves across the globe to do the job that we love.”

“And what’s the price, Felix?” Charlie asked, turning around in Felix’s arms, “Our souls?”

Felix shook his head, “We need to get marked, but we don’t need to kill. The sacrifice at initiation is a Muggle, but we could have our dragons do the deed for us.”

Charlie frowned at that.

“And after that, we are dragon riders,” Felix said, his eyes searching Charlie’s, “No killing, I made that one of my conditions. We hunt, we do aerial surveillance, but we don’t kill.”

Charlie’s eyes met Felix’s, “Dragon riders?” he breathed.

Felix’s eyes lit up, “Dragon riders, Char. You and me, a couple of dragons and the open sky. Fuck, Char, is there any way to be more _free_?”

“Good Godric,” Charlie muttered, resting his head against Felix’s shoulder, “That’s tempting.”

“So do it,” Felix said, his fingers finding Charlie’s chin, Felix forced him to look up, “You’ve never gotten on with your mother, and we both know Bill is your favourite sibling so what’s holding you back?”

Charlie knew the answer was his moral compass, but he didn’t want to verbalise that. He loved dragons, and Felix was one of his favourite humans – Bill was the other but being his brother, he didn’t have the same kind of fun with him that he had with Felix. What was better than being around the two people he loved and a creature he treated like a child?

“I could pick any dragon?” Charlie asked.

“Any dragon,” Felix said with a nod, “I picked Lennox, she’s outside.”

“You flew here?” Charlie asked in surprise, he walked away from Felix and opened the door, “And you left her outside? Hello sweetheart.”

The Peruvian Vipertooth outside bowed its head, and Charlie held his hand out, gently stroking its snout. He sighed contently; the dragon was copper-coloured with deep red wings. It was a good deal smaller than the dragons that Charlie tended to work with.

“What, you wanted me to bring her inside?”

“Course,” Charlie said, “You’ll be hungry, won’t you Lennox? And there’s a warm fire in here.”

The dragon stepped forward, it was about fifteen feet long, but its looks could be deceiving because it was one of the fastest dragons known to wizard-kind and its venomous fangs could kill a human in ten seconds flat.

Felix chuckled, “Come on in then, girl.”

The dragon came into the house and curled up contently in front of the fire. Charlie shut the door and smiled, “That’s better, isn’t it? Horrible Felix leaving you out there on your own,” he reached into a sack by the door and threw a dead rat her way. It was a feeble snack, but it would keep her hunger at bay.

“I’ve been with her all day,” Felix said, gripping Charlie’s hand and pulling him towards the bed, “It was you I needed to see.”

“Was the sex part of the deal?”

“No,” Felix said, mouthing a kiss against Charlie’s chest, “But you’re more receptive to bad news when you're sated.”

Charlie laughed and looked over at the open window; the horntail was still flying around in the distance.

“So,” Felix said, his voice wavering for the first time, “Are you in?”

“I’m in,” Charlie said, tearing his eyes away from the window to look at Lennox, “But I’m bringing Sarris.”

Felix’s eyebrows shot up, “Sarris?”

“Yeah, she’s an albino,” Charlie agreed, “But that stunted her growth. She’s got all the viciousness of a horntail, all the beauty and grace, just at half the size.”

Felix hummed against his neck, and the sensation sent a shiver down Charlie’s spine, “True. A fully grown horntail would scare the shit out of Lennox. Sarris only has what, 10 foot on her?”

“Give or take,” Charlie said, “And being white, she’ll blend into the dull, grey British skies like a dream.”

Felix nodded and moved to straddle him, “Then it’s settled. I’ll stay here with you until the August moon. We’ll make sure that Lennox and Sarris are prepared, physically and mentally, then we will go to the marking ceremony.”

“Just you, me and Bill,” Charlie said, rolling his tongue and clicking it thoughtfully.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Charlie shook his head, “Nah, I think distance is probably what we need right now. I’m interested that you’re staying though. The best part of two weeks here with me, bit relationshippy, isn’t it?”

“Honestly? I don’t give a fuck,” Felix said bluntly, “I’ve got no family that I care about left and you…you’re the only one who gets it, the love of dragons over humans.”

Charlie nodded, “Yeah, you’re the only one who gets it too, Felix,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “I wouldn’t hate it if you stayed.”

Felix smiled, “Good because I wasn’t planning on giving you a choice, you know?”

Charlie nudged him, nearly knocking him off the bed, “Sneaky shit of a Slytherin.”

“Impulsive arse of a Gryffindor,” Felix shot back playfully.

*** TBC ***


	16. We Are the Dark Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore’s secrets come to light, and the August moon brings several interesting recruits into the fold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Dark Horses by Switchfoot

The August full moon was nearing when Voldemort approached Harry. He was sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee next to him and the Daily Prophet in his hands. Reading the news was pretty pointless these days, mind you. Now that they had taken control of the Ministry, they also controlled the Prophet, so all news was ‘Voldemort news’. All the same, Harry was intrigued by the announcement of Snape as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He had known it was going to happen, but he hadn’t expected a full front-page article complete with a not-entirely-awful photograph of the greasy-haired bastard.

“You are less than complimentary about your Potions Master, Harry,” Voldemort said as he stepped into the drawing-room, “And one can only wonder why that is. He has, after all, devoted himself to keeping you alive these past 17 years.”

Harry looked up sharply, “You know about that?”

“I can hear your thoughts, at all times,” Voldemort said dryly, “Of course I know about that.”

“And not only is he still alive, but you’re giving him a prestigious position at Hogwarts?” Harry asked. Those two facts just weren’t going hand in hand for him.

Voldemort sat down opposite him and tapped a long finger against the table, “Yes, you see I am not only thinking in the here and now, Harry. I play the long game, as did Severus. He acted as a double agent, he kept his options open while I was gone, and in the end, he returned to me.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“He told you the truth,” Voldemort said, “He unmasked Dumbledore and brought me _you_. Your service, your loyalty, it is why I forgive Severus for his past transgressions.”

Harry nodded as it all clicked into place, “Speaking of Dumbledore, have you had time to look through those letters?”

Voldemorts eyes glinted with malice as he dropped a photograph on the desk, “Yes, I have.”

Harry looked down at the photo and frowned, “Who is that?”

“This is Albus Dumbledore,” Voldemort said, a long finger tapping the photograph, “And this man by his side is Gellert Grindelwald.”

Harry looked at Voldemort in disbelief, “They were _friends_? He was friends with Grindelwald, and he had the nerve to stand against _you_? What a hypocrite!”

Voldemort chuckled, “I applaud your show of loyalty, but it is not necessary. Dumbeldore never liked me, from the moment he met me in the orphanage, he labelled me as a lost cause. I never expected or wanted his adoration, but yes…his relationship with Grindelwald does make him a hypocrite.”

“Relationship?” Harry echoed, “That implies they were…you know?”

“Yes, Harry,” Voldemort said, his voice tinged with amusement, “I do believe the relationship was sexual.”

Harry leant back, “Wow…I mean…wow. How do you go from pillow talk to defeating the other guy in a duel and locking him up in Nurmengard?”

“The same way you go from being sworn enemies to talking openly over firewhiskey,” Voldemort said with a smirk.

Harry snorted, he couldn’t argue with that logic, “So what changed Dumbledore’s mind?”

“I believe he realised he was in too deep when his sister was killed,” Voldemort mused, “She had been unstable ever since a group of muggles attacked her. Frankly, I do not know how the old man was such a muggle lover considering what muggles did to his family.”

Harry frowned, “Was she young when she was attacked?”

“She was a child,” Voldemort answered, “Dumbledore’s father died in Azkaban when he went after them, seeking revenge. I gather from the letters that Dumbledore was incredibly bitter when his mother died; he had no interest in taking care of his damaged sister or his uncontrollable brother.”

“Damaged,” Harry sighed, “Her magic I guess? Because of what those muggles did to her?”

“Indeed.”

“How could anyone _love_ or defend muggles after that,” Harry spat with disgust.

From the look on Voldemort’s face, it was clear that he agreed with Harry, “That summer, he and Grindelwald became friends and lovers. It went sour over a duel between Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I believe a stray curse hit Ariana Dumbledore and killed her, but no one ever knew whose spell it had been. Grindelwald fled afterwards, and that was the end of their relationship.”

“So if it hadn’t been for his sister's death, Dumbledore and Grindelwald would be ruling the world together right now,” Harry scoffed, “Just when I thought I couldn’t hate him anymore.”

“Quite,” Voldemort agreed, leaning back in his chair, “They were researching all sorts of things, Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Those letters were incredibly informative; thank you for having the forethought to search for them.”

Harry nodded, “You’re welcome my lord, but that brings me around to something else.”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, “I told you that we would not have this discussion again and most certainly not in such a public setting.”

Harry rolled his eyes and switched to parseltongue, “ _You selected the books that Augustus gave me and tested me on. Why would you select the one about dark magic, specifically Horcruxes, if you did not want me to push you in this direction? If you put your soul back together again, you would be unstoppable. You would be Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort, the boy who was smart enough and charming enough to get anyone to switch sides and the man who is feared across the country.”_

Voldemort fixed him with a slightly amused look, “ _I do not need to put my soul back together to be both Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort, Harry. I have **you**. This is why you are my Head of Recruitment, you will be charming and intelligent enough to get those followers, and I will focus on the day to day running of things. Really, I should have thought about putting my soul into human vessels a long time ago, being able to split myself does ease the burden.”_

Harry snorted and switched back to English, “Speaking of which, have you filled all of the vacancies that you needed to yet?”

“No,” Voldemort replied, “Alecto Carrow will teach Muggle Studies, and Amycus Carrow will teach Offensive Magic, as we discussed. But Augustus Rookwood cannot teach DefensiveMagic. I have given him his old job back as you well know.”

Harry nodded. After the big party, Voldemort had held a meeting and dished out jobs at the Ministry – Gus had become Head of the Department of Mysteries, Avery had become Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Dolohov had been made Head Hit Wizard, Jugson had been given his old job back as an Auror in the DMLE and Travers had been given a job in that department too.

MacNair had also been given his old job back in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Fitz had gotten over his limp the minute he was told that he would be taking over that department with the chief goal of working out how to use the imperius curse on magical creatures to get the likes of the Centaurs and Merpeople on their side.

Lucius had been given one final chance at redemption due to his talent for politics – he had been elected as Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot. Alfred Nott had become the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Finally, in thanks for enabling the Ministry coup to happen – Yaxley had been made the head of the DMLE.

“I have an idea,” Harry admitted.

“Yes?”

“Bill Weasley,” Harry said, looking Voldemort in the eye.

Voldemort laughed softly, “He joins us in two days, and within two weeks of him being marked, you expect me to trust him?”

“You’ll make him take an Unbreakable Vow when he joins,” Harry pointed out, “It’s standard procedure when you’re bringing someone in from the ‘other’ side, isn’t it?”

“You know this to be true,” Voldemort pointed out.

“So he can’t betray you and he wouldn’t anyway,” Harry said offhandedly, “The point is, he’s getting fed up with the bank and the politics of it all, dealing with the goblins and what have you. His wife is pregnant, a slower-paced job is probably exactly what he needs, _and_ he’ll be perfectly placed to turn the least likely students. The students who prefer Defensive Magic over Offensive Magic will be the children of light families.”

Voldemort said nothing, but Harry could tell that he was working through it in his head, “We shall see how his initiation goes and I may have a conversation with him about it. However, I have ideas of my own.”

Harry just nodded.

“There is another decision that we must make before you return to Hogwarts,” Voldemort mused, “Who will be your Head Girl?”

Harry frowned, “Do you have someone in mind?”

“The eldest Greengrass seems a wise choice,” Voldemort said, “Perhaps you could get close to her and show her that she and her family will be safer with us than against us?”

“I could do that even if she weren’t Head Girl, and it would likely look suspicious to her,” Harry admitted, “I think we should make the Head Girl a Muggle-born.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes, “It is only thanks to you that I am allowing Muggle-borns to return to school. Why should I give one such a high position?”

“To set an example,” Harry answered, “Everyone knows we run the Ministry now and with the announcement of Snape as Headmaster, they will suspect we run the school too. They will be expecting their children to go back to a prison, so let’s make sure that they don’t. What we ought to do is keep the school running as normally as possible to show the children and therefore their parents, that while this is a new regime, it’s not necessarily a bad one.”

Voldemort’s finger tapped the table once more, “You have a girl in mind, I presume?”

Harry nodded, “A Ravenclaw. My former friend Hermione knew of her. Her name is Lily, and her parents were abusive Muggles, I bet she hates them as much as I do.”

“Very well,” Voldemort said, “I shall let you conduct this little Muggle-born experiment.”

Harry smiled, “Have you given any thought to placing Narcissa in the school? She would be a wonderful matron, and by placing her in the hospital wing where injured students have no choice but to go – she would become your ears in the school. With Filch as your eyes, you would always hear about any uprisings or rebellions amongst the children of light families.”

“That is certainly an interesting idea,” Voldemort remarked. He rose to his feet, “I will give it some thought, and I must travel once again. I shall see you for the initiation in a few days.”

“Alright,” Harry said, “Safe travels.”

Voldemort paused on his way to the door, about to turn around and curse Harry for his cheek but then a small prod into the young man's mind told him that he was genuine. A slight flutter of emotion found its way through the soul-bond to Harry, which made him raise an eyebrow in surprise.

Voldemort cleared his throat, “Thank you,” he said before he swept out of the room.

* * *

The August moon was highly anticipated, by several of the Death Eaters. They had all heard rumours about big things happening during this initiation, but very few people knew the truth, and Harry was one of them.

“Do you think Blaise is nervous?” Draco asked Harry in a whisper.

The two boys stood together by a large bonfire that had yet to be lit. Voldemort sat upon his ‘throne’ and those who were to join their ranks had yet to be led out into the garden.

“I doubt it,” Harry said, his eyes falling on Blaise’s parents – Osiris (formerly Caradoc Dearborn) was a highly accomplished, intelligent Death Eater. He stood with his head held high, and his hand in his wife’s. She wasn’t a Death Eater, but she was imposing enough, which probably had something to do with the rumours that her family had muggle mafia links.

“His mother is basically an assassin,” Harry added in an undertone, “I doubt killing a Muggle bothers him as much as it bothered you two pussies.”

Theo had just appeared on Draco’s other side. He snorted, “Hi, Harry, nice to see you too.”

Harry shot him a winning grin, “Hi Theo, how’re you?”

Theo shook his head in amusement, “I’m great, Harry. How are you?”

Draco bit back an amused smile at the interplay between his friends.

Before Harry and Theo could wind each other up any further, the doors of Malfoy Manor opened, and everyone fell silent. Harry watched with interest as Bill Weasley and Blaise Zabini were led out by Gus - Blaise held his head high and smirked at his mother when he walked past. Bill didn’t hang his head in shame by any means though; he walked with conviction through the crowd of Death Eaters.

Harry glanced across the garden and noticed Fleur for the first time. She was dressed all in black like the other women who weren’t Death Eaters, and she was standing next to Narcissa Malfoy.

Bill and Blaise reached Voldemort and came to a stop in front of him. Voldemort looked up lazily but saw nothing in the night sky. He sighed and got to his feet.

“Let us begin!”

Voldemort summoned Bill forward with one long, crooked finger. Bill stepped forward wordlessly and performed the Unbreakable Vow – Harry could feel Voldemort’s surprise at the eldest Weasley’s sincerity. He had not believed him to be genuine until that point.

The warm summer wind blew through the garden while Voldemort had Bill’s sacrifice brought forward. He looked relatively unassuming, a middle-aged man in a ragged suit with a scraggly beard.

“Will you tell us why you chose this Muggle, Weasley?” Voldemort asked.

Bill looked the Muggle in the eye for a moment then looked up at the Death Eaters, “This is not just any Muggle. This man is, in my mind, as low as a Muggle can get. He is what the Muggles call an ‘archaeologist’. They dig on land that does not belong to them, old land, _sacred_ land. They take things that are not theirs, and they put them in museums – they take ancient artefacts, some of them cursed and some of them with magical powers. They rip our heritage away from us and put it in museums all for _their_ financial gain.”

The Death Eaters boo-ed and some of them spat in the direction of the Muggle.

Bill looked back at the terrified man. He was obviously silenced because his mouth was open in a scream for help that Harry knew would never be answered.

“This Muggle has robbed us of many important artefacts and has personally pissed me off by stealing objects that I was trying to break curses on, _from a tomb_ ,” Bill retorted.

“He deserves to die the same way that the curse he unleashed killed every other member of my team.”

Bill raised his wand, and everyone watched with interest to see what he would do next. He slashed his wand through the air in a ‘Z’ shape then cut it upwards while saying the incantation.

Harry didn’t recognise the spell from the wand movement, but he did when he heard the incantation. It was the Transmogrifian Torture Curse, and it was most definitely dark magic. No wonder Bill Weasley had been so easy to convert, that wasn’t the kind of spell a good guy just happened to know.

The curse was horrific. It manipulated the body's shape until every bone was broken or until a crucial one killed the victim. Voldemort removed the silencing charm placed on the Muggle, and blood-curdling screams filled the air as crack after pop sounded. Bill kept his eyes on the Muggle the entire time, never wavering his focus. When the curse broke the Muggles spine, then his neck – he died pretty much instantly.

Bill ended the curse and levitated the corpse onto the fire. When he turned to Voldemort, he looked the Dark Lord directly in the eye and Voldemort smirked, “Very inventive. I have not seen the Transmogrifian Torture Curse used in this country for quite some time.”

“I spent a lot of time in Egypt,” Bill said, by way of explanation. He pulled his left sleeve up and knelt before Voldemort.

The Dark Lord took his arm and placed his wand against the soft flesh there. Harry expected Bill to show some sign of pain, like all of the others he had seen branded. However, Bill grimaced and growled under his breath when the spell began, but then he closed his eyes tightly and took it like a man.

When the mark had been burned, Voldemort bowed his head, “Welcome to our ranks, William.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Bill said. He rose to his feet and joined his wife, who Harry had expected to look pale or shocked, but she didn’t. Fleur took Bill’s hand and gave him an approving nod, further confirming Harry’s theory that she knew exactly what her husband was capable of.

Blaise was up next. He did not need to make an Unbreakable Vow because his family, unlike Bill’s, could be trusted and were already loyal servants. He made a standard vow, an oath of homage in essence. Then he turned to the Muggle that Voldemort had selected for him, he hadn’t been fussy about who that person was.

Blaise wasted no time. There was no speech like the one Bill had given. He simply raised his wand and hit the Muggle between the eyes with a piercing curse. It was quick, and it was effective - it was an execution.

When Blaise was branded, he showed a little more discomfort than Bill. He twisted his arm as the pain throbbed through it, a few uncontrollable noises of pain escaped him, but he didn’t scream like a baby as Theo had.

Blaise was welcomed into their ranks as Bill had been. He nodded and thanked Voldemort, then made his way over to his parents.

Voldemort looked to the sky once more, but he did not sigh this time. His lips quirked up at the edges, and Harry felt a wave of warmth hit him – he was pleased. Harry understood why when he felt the wind pick up, more than it should have done on a mild evening like this.

Other Death Eaters looked to the sky too as two dots in the distance began to get closer and closer. A couple of people screamed when they realised what those dots were, but Harry grinned. Two dragons, two riders, Felix had followed through on his promise to get Charlie on board.

Bill looked on in disbelief as the two dragons landed gracefully on the lawn in front of Voldemort.

“I apologise for the delay, my lord,” Felix said as he jumped gracefully down from his Peruvian Vipertooth. The deep red dragon bowed its head and made eye contact with Voldemort.

This pleased Voldemort further.

Charlie jumped down, less gracefully, from his slightly more cumbersome albino Hungarian Horntail, “The Gulf Stream is a bitch at this time of year, my lord,” he added, almost forgetting the crucial honorific at the end of the sentence.

Bill glared at Charlie from a distance, but the Weasley brothers both knew that this was not the time for discussion – that could come later.

“Sarris – show the Dark Lord some respect,” Charlie scolded the dragon.

She huffed, and puffs of smoke billowed out of her nose.

“Sarris,” Charlie said, his tone low and commanding.

If dragons could roll their eyes, this one would have done. Harry felt like it was his spirit animal. Charlie’s scolding worked this time though; the dragon bowed its head respectfully to Voldemort.

Voldemort nodded in response, to the dragons and their riders, “Upon the death of one Rosier, we gain another in Albert’s dear son, Felix.”

The Death Eaters all knew fine well that Felix had been anything but ‘dear; to Albert, but they said nothing on the subject as Voldemort ushered Felix forwards.

They went through the motions – Felix making the same standard vow that Blaise had. It all played out much the same until the time came for Felix to kill his sacrifice – an unassuming muggle woman who was cowering in fear.

Felix ran his hand down Lennox’s head and murmured, “Kill her.”

The dragon obliged instantly. Lennox lowered her head then raised it, opening her mouth and spitting fire at the muggle woman. Within seconds she was incinerated entirely, nothing but a pile of bones and ash.

Felix raised an eyebrow at Lennox, “I guess you weren’t hungry then?”

Lennox shook her head and snorted distastefully as if to say, ‘You think I would eat _that_?’

Felix seemed amused by the Death Eaters amongst them who were cowering from the dragon. He turned away from the crowd and held his arm out to Voldemort, dropping to his knees as he did so.

His smug façade broke the moment the mark began to burn through his flesh. He cried out in pain, gritting his teeth, his eyes watering as his skin burned before him.

Interestingly enough, Charlie had shown no signs of discomfort when Lennox was incinerating the Muggle, but he grimaced and turned away when he saw Felix in pain. At first, Harry thought it was fear – because he knew he was next – but quickly he realised that it went quite far beyond that.

Felix was breathing heavily when Voldemort finished. But he still bowed his head and thanked him when he was welcomed into their ranks. Charlie grabbed Felix when he stood up, his legs just a little on the shaky side. Felix gave Charlie an appreciative nod then let go, leaning against his faithful dragon instead.

Lennox pushed the sleeve of Felix’s robes up with her snout then licked the burning wound, making Felix sigh in relief, “Thanks girl,” he said softly as the dragon's saliva with its healing properties soothed his burning flesh.

Charlie purposefully avoided looking at Bill when he walked up to Voldemort – his dragon now obediently standing behind him. Like Bill, he made an Unbreakable Vow then it was time for his dragon to make its sacrifice.

Harry had been surprised that Lennox had chosen to kill her victim for fun, rather than for food. He expected something a little different from Sarris – but then again, Harry had far more experience than he would have liked with Hungarian Horntails.

Charlie looked Sarris directly in the eye, and she stared straight back at him. It was like they were communicating without words, and it was fascinating to behold. For one brief moment, he wondered if that was what he and Voldemort looked like when they were think-speaking to each other through the soul-bond.

But before Harry could dwell on that too much, Charlie nodded and tapped Sarris on the head. It must have been a command of some sort because Sarris lunged forward, towards the unsuspecting muggle man before her. She opened up her jaws but did not breath fire. Instead, she bit the Muggles head clean off, which was as dramatic as it was bloody.

Harry rolled his eyes at the girly shriek that Fitz emitted when the blood spurted out of the Muggle – who was still flailing around without its head – and entirely drenched him. The flailing body did not thrash for long because the moment Sarris had swallowed the head, she ate the rest – in one bite.

“Sorry,” Charlie said to Fitzroy, “ _Scourgify!”_ the blood vanished from the Irish Death Eater, “She’s quite impatient, it’s no wonder she’s always got indigestion.”

Fitz humphed at the embarrassment but said nothing more on the subject. Charlie turned to Voldemort, probably expecting some unkind treatment due to his dragons rather barbaric way of killing.

Instead, he was met with a smirk, “Well – the old saying that dragons take after their trainers does have some merit after all.”

Charlie snorted – he had always been able to laugh at his own expense.

“Yes, my lord,” Charlie said, lifting his sleeve and holding out his left arm, “Sarris has less refined tastes than Lennox, that much is true.”

Felix shot Charlie a knowing look and Harry finally understood the nature of the relationship between the two dragon trainers.

Voldemort grabbed Charlie’s arm to brand him, and like Bill, Charlie did brilliantly. He hissed in pain when he first felt the burn, but he remained silent and still beyond that. _It must be a Gryffindor thing,_ Harry mused.

_You did not see Peter Pettigrew wail and scream like a baby when he was branded._

Harry snorted at the thought Voldemort had just sent his way, _There is such a thing as a true Gryffindor and a snake amongst the lions, you know?_

_Quite._ Voldemort thought back, looking over at Harry briefly as he dropped Charlie’s arm, _I am rather well acquainted with one._

Harry knew that Voldemort meant him and for a moment, that offended him, but he couldn’t argue that the Dark Lord was wrong, because he wasn’t. All the same, his thought process ended there when Voldemort welcomed the recruits into his ranks and informed them all to mingle and enjoy the final vestiges of summer.

Of course, the moment they were free to mingle, Bill approached Charlie.

“What the hell?”

“What? I saw the error of my ways like you wanted me to!” Charlie exclaimed.

Bill narrowed his eyes at him, “But _I_ didn’t convince you, Char. You didn’t even give me the chance to convince you.”

“I doubt you could be as convincing as I am, Bill,” Felix said smoothly as he ran his hand down Lennox’s back, “Char loves his big brother as much as the next guy, but there are some things that trump that.”

Bill scoffed, “I couldn’t convince you? Me, your brother and your best friend? But some dragon trainer you’re shagging can?”

Charlie rolled his eyes, “You think he **_seduced_** me into joining the Dark Side? Really, Bill? _Oh hey Charlie, come be a Death Eater, and I’ll suck your dick real good.”_

Bill glared at him, “You’re a prick.”

“And _you’re_ petty,” Charlie cut back.

Harry snorted from where he was standing near Felix, and the younger Rosier shot him a grin, “Brothers, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Harry said with an amused smile, “I’m an only child.”

“Yeah well, brothers aren’t always what they’re cut out to be,” Felix shrugged.

Harry pondered on that while the Weasley brothers continued their debate.

“He convinced me because he made it about the dragons,” Charlie was saying, “And he’s right, Bill. Magic dying out means dragons die out, they feed on magic, they live by it. Without it, they wither and die. Muggles fucking up their habitats, shooting them out of the sky, polluting the air they breathe? It’s not on.”

“So you joined because you want to save the dragons?” Bill asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

“You joined because you want to protect your family, your babies,” Charlie said, nudging his head at Fleur, “The dragons are my babies, so yeah, I joined because I want to save the dragons.”

Harry clapped his hands, “Beautiful show of fiery Weasley companionship, boys. Welcome to the ranks, both of you.”

Felix chuckled, “Ever the sarcastic prick, aren’t you?”

“You two know each other?” Charlie asked in surprise.

Felix laughed, “This is the Death Eater who convinced me to join and to convince you to tag along. As expected, you didn’t take much convincing, but then again, you never do.”

Bill rolled his eyes and Charlie punched him in the arm, “Shut up.”

* * *

He would never admit it out loud, but Harry began to feel nervous in the final days before the 1st of September. It wasn’t about the pressure to recruit, or pressure from the Dark Lord in general. He didn’t feel like Draco had last year, he didn’t feel like the task at hand was a monumental one – after all, he had already recruited two very talented Weasley’s, hadn’t he?

_Indeed. So one ought to ask oneself – why the nerves?_

Harry sighed. He was sitting in the garden, and although he had no idea where Voldemort was, he supposed he was nearby. His thoughts cut through the haze very clearly, which they only tended to do if he was in the same house as Harry.

_I know I’m going back as Head Boy, so I’ll have my quarters and common room, but I’ll still be a Gryffindor. I’ll still have to face everyone that I betrayed,_ Harry thought back to Voldemort.

There was a brief pause, and Harry wondered if Voldemort was too busy to reply. He leant back in his chair and surveyed the grounds – autumn was definitely upon them, the last days of summer were here.

_You will be at the same school, and you were always going to have to confront them. However, I doubt they will be your housemates for much longer. Meet me in the dungeon corridor. I have something to show you._

Harry jumped up, instantly intrigued. He had never been down to the dungeons, and it wasn’t because anyone had told him that he wasn’t allowed to. He just didn’t want to find out what was down there, as it was he could avoid the area, pretend he didn’t hear the screams and remain blissfully ignorant.

All the same, Harry made his way through the grand, portrait-lined halls of Malfoy Manor – nodding to upturned nosed woman after golden-haired man as he went. The Malfoy’s did think very highly of themselves, and really, Harry didn’t know why. In essence, all they had done throughout history was pick the winning side and then reap the rewards.

The dungeon's door was half the size of the rest and not nearly so grand – just bare wood with a cast iron handle. Harry opened it and almost grinned, once upon a time he would barely need to duck to get through it, but now he properly had to stoop to avoid hitting his head. When he stepped inside, the door swung shut behind him, but he didn’t jump. He had spent long enough in this house to learn that not only was it semi-sentient, it also liked to creep people out.

It wasn’t like Hogwarts which sought to amaze and to a sense, be practical. The shifting staircases were useful most of the time but also a stop and stare in awe affair. The secret passageways made sense, but Malfoy Manor? No, it was just creepy.

It wanted to scare the occupants, to keep them on edge, make them fear their own home. Doors slammed shut of their own free will; windows burst open on stormy nights. People could be heard whispering in shadowy corners when you were walking the halls alone in the dark and, to top it all off, mirrors sometimes showed your reflection as it was and then just for fun, they would show you with a menacing grin, dripping in the blood of your enemies.

Harry gave himself a shake and looked around the tiny corridor that he was now hunched over inside. There was another small wooden door and at the end of the hall was a trapdoor. The main door opened and Voldemort stepped in, being taller than Harry, he was even more hunched over in the tight space.

“Down the trapdoor,” Voldemort commanded.

Harry snorted, “Isn’t that how we first met?”

Voldemort looked like he was struggling not to smile in amusement, “We first met when I tried to kill you.”

Harry yanked the trapdoor open and said, “Yes, but that was the first time we met as two humans who could have a coherent conversation,” he reminded him, “And there had better not be a three-headed dog down there, by the way.”

Voldemort smirked, “No, it is something far more refined than that.”

Harry didn’t ask any more questions; he didn’t want to test Voldemort’s patience any more than he already had done. He just swung his legs onto the ladder and descended into the depths of the basement.

When he got down, he squinted in the darkness, and he was sure he could see another person – or was it more than one person? He reached for his wand, but a familiar voice said.

“No, she doesn’t like the light – her eyes aren’t developed enough yet.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, Felix is here too,” Charlie’s voice returned.

Harry moved aside as Voldemort’s robes brushed against his shoulder. The Dark Lord stood by his side – they were shoulder to shoulder in the tight space.

“She has hatched?” He asked the dragon trainers.

Naturally, Harry assumed that they were talking about a baby dragon.

“She has,” Felix answered, “She just needs to be fed, which is why we called you, my lord.”

Harry squinted, “What has hatched?”

“The Basilisk I had our dragon trainers take care of,” Voldemort said, his velvety voice cutting through the darkness, “I had Gibbon attempt to hatch one, to no avail but of course he lacked experience.”

“He hatched one, but he didn’t know what to feed it,” Charlie admitted, “Which was why it perished. Basilisk hatchlings must be fed within 24 hours, or they won’t survive.”

“What do they eat?” Harry asked.

“It’s more of a drink, really,” Felix said.

“Blood,” Voldemort’s clear voice said.

“And the person who gives them this blood becomes their sire,” Charlie explained, “They will be unwaveringly loyal to that person and their blood descendants.”

Harry breathed in realisation, “That’s why the one in the Chamber of Secrets was loyal to you and not me – you’re the heir of Slytherin, I just speak parseltongue.”

“Precisely,” Voldemort said.

“Can I feed it?” Harry asked eagerly, “I’d love a Basilisk for a pet.”

Voldemort chuckled under his breath, “You were always going to be the one to feed it, Harry. I have Nagini, another female snake would become a challenger to her, and there would be a fight to the death. You and I both know that Nagini is far too valuable to me for me to risk that.”

Harry nodded then realised how stupid that was in the darkness, “Yes, my lord.”

“However, you cannot get too attached,” Voldemort said, “She will be yours until she is fully matured, but then you must put her in the Chamber of Secrets – it is where she belongs.”

“Yes, my lord,” Harry said again, but he knew fine well he would get attached – he was attached to Hedwig after all and…unless he kept her in her cage, there was a good chance his new pet would eat his old one.

Harry was sure he heard Voldemort snort quietly at that thought which just confirmed that he was right.

“Give me your right arm then Harry,” Charlie said.

Harry held his arm out, and Charlie made a cut, with a knife rather than his wand, Harry would guess from the cool feel of the blade on his skin. The next thing he felt was a ticklish sensation, one he quickly worked out was the small tongue of a snake, lapping at the blood on the wound. Charlie squeezed it a few times until the snake had eaten enough then he murmured a healing charm.

“Come a little closer,” Charlie advised.

Harry did so, and at this distance, he could see the tiny snake. He reached his hand out, and she slithered on, fitting just inside the palm of his hand.

“She’s tiny,” Harry breathed.

Charlie chuckled, “She won’t be for long. You’ll need to stay down here for the next 24 hours because she’ll need frequent feeding. By the time she’s done, she’ll be big enough to rest on your shoulders.”

Harry nodded and looked at the snake in amazement, “Is she blind?”

“Nah, her eyes just aren’t fully developed yet,” Charlie answered, “In 24 hours, she will be able to see clearly, but she won’t be able to kill anyone with her gaze until she’s fully matured. Until then, she’ll be able to give your enemies an awful migraine with one look.”

Harry chuckled at that.

“What are you going to call her?” Felix asked curiously.

“Yeah, you’ll bond better if she’s got a name,” Charlie agreed.

“Artemis,” Harry said, pulling the name from the depths of his knowledge – Gus had been teaching him about Greek and Roman mythology, and it’s magical roots.

“The Goddess of the Hunt,” Voldemort said, and although it was dark, Harry could tell he had an amused smile on his lips, “Appropriate.”

Harry smiled down at the little snake, “Well, I thought she looked more like an Artemis than a Medusa.”

Charlie and Felix both let out soft snorts of laughter at that, and Harry grinned cheerfully. Going back with a companion, one that he would be able to talk to once she had learned how to speak – it made his return to Hogwarts a little more bearable.

*** TBC ***


	17. I Am Who I'm Meant to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally returns to Hogwarts…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> This is Me by Keala Settle from “The Greatest Showman”.
> 
> Just one chapter today, and it's late, I'm sorry! It's been a tough week and man, home schooling is hard!!! I'm hoping to get the second chapter of the week up tomorrow!

**2 Days Later…**

The table in the dining room of Malfoy Manor was almost full. The air was still with anticipation; Hogwarts students would be going back to school the following day. Their regime now had the Ministry, and they would soon have a hold on the school. It felt like the beginning of an era.

One seat at the table was empty, and it was not Voldemort’s. This was unusual because Voldemort did not usually tolerate tardiness.

“Where is your favourite pet, my lord?” Bellatrix sneered, her eyes on the empty seat.

“He is carrying out an important task,” Voldemort said, his scarlet eyes on Bellatrix, “I assure you, Bellatrix, he will be here in due time. Until then, I suggest that we begin.”

Nobody objected, so Voldemort leant back in his chair and reached down, gently stroking Nagini’s head, “As you all know, tomorrow the students of Hogwarts will return to new leadership. Severus and I have made some changes to the staffing of the school, beginning with the removal of the muggle lover Burbage.”

Some of the Death Eaters jeered at that, but Voldemort silenced them by raising a hand.

“Replacing her will be Alecto Carrow,” Voldemort said, bowing his head at the hag-like woman, “Muggle Studies will become a mandatory class, and we will teach wizarding children about the horrors that Muggles have committed against our kind. I want to clarify to you, Alecto, that I do not wish you to brainwash these children. I want you to teach the facts, to teach them about the persecution _we_ faced under the Muggles, rather than learning about how the likes of Grindelwald enslaved _them._ ”

Alecto nodded, “I understand, my lord.”

Voldemort nodded and looked out at his followers, “I have replaced Defence Against the Dark Arts with two mandatory subjects – Offensive Magic and Defensive Magic. Amycus Carrow will teach Offensive Magic.”

Amycus nodded eagerly.

“You will teach the children all kinds of offensive magic, Amycus, but only at the appropriate level,” Voldemort instructed, “There is no use attempting to teach first years how to cast unforgivable curses after all.”

“Yes, my lord,” Amycus promised.

“One of our more recent recruits will teach Defensive Magic,” Voldemort said, his eyes falling on one of the three Weasley’s at the table, “William Weasley.”

Bill looked up in surprise, “Me, my lord?”

Voldemort kept his gaze on the Weasley, “It has come to my attention that the students who will gravitate towards that class are those from light or neutral families. It would do no good to have a notably dark wizard teach that class, but they will trust someone such as yourself, and if they trust you or respect you, then they shall see that our ways are not so different from their own.”

Bill bowed his head, “I am honoured, my lord, and I will not fail you in this task.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, “I should hope not, for if you do, you will suffer the consequences of your failure.”

Finally, he looked over at the Malfoys, “Narcissa, you shall be my eyes and ears in the school. You will be in the perfect position to gain the students' trust as the school's new matron.”

Narcissa and Lucius both looked surprised by this offer of employment.

“You would trust me with such an important role, my lord?” Narcissa asked quietly.

“Frankly, Narcissa, I would trust you more than I would trust your husband,” Voldemort said, his eyes on Lucius, “We all know that he is on his final chance, having failed me time and time again.”

Lucius swallowed and looked down, but he said nothing.

“Your loyalty is unwavering, Narcissa,” Voldemort said, his voice relatively soft, “As is your sisters.”

At this, Bellatrix shone with pride and sat up a little straighter.

_You have a soft spot for those Black women._

Voldemort ignored Harry’s voice as it irritatingly prodded into his mind. During his isolation in a dark cell, Harry had become rather adept at worming his way into Voldemort’s mind.

“I believe it is time to reward you for that,” Voldemort finished.

“Thank you, my lord,” Narcissa said, “It is truly an honour.”

Voldemort bowed his head and looked to the door just as it opened. Everyone at the table turned around at the intrusion, and some shrieked in horror at the sight before them.

Harry had just stepped into the room looking a little more haggard than usual, but that had a lot to do with the 24 hours in a dark cell with only a newly hatched snake for company. As it turned out, snakes were not born with the ability to talk in coherent parseltongue. The snake in question was draped around his neck and had grown exponentially in size over the past 24 hours.

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes, “She can’t kill you by looking at you, she’s only a baby.”

Voldemort suppressed an amused smirk and instead raised an eyebrow at Harry, “You are late.”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have had a snake feeding off of my life force, literally, for the past 24 hours,” Harry said, taking his seat at Voldemort’s side, _I slept through my alarm call._

Voldemort gave Harry a look – he couldn’t tell if he was amused or if it was more of a long-suffering look, “Yes, as you can see – Harry is in charge of this young Basilisk. While he is at Hogwarts, he will care for it and return it to the Chamber of Secrets; this is what my ancestor – Salazar Slytherin – would have wanted.”

The Death Eaters nodded and made noises of approval, but Voldemort did not let them go on for long, “On that note, I dismiss all bar those of you who will be returning to Hogwarts as students this year.”

The adults left, leaving only Harry, Draco, Theo and Blaise at the table with Voldemort. Draco and Theo looked a little scared about this, Harry was quite relaxed and Blaise, well not much phased him.

“I want to make it clear that there will be a hierarchy at Hogwarts, as there is here,” Voldemort said, his voice was cold and high, “You answer to Harry. If he gives you an order, you will treat it as if it were my own. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord,” The three Slytherins echoed.

Voldemort gave them a pleased nod, “You are aware that Harry is returning to Hogwarts with the sole aim of recruiting new followers, and I expect you to aid him in that task. Before this year is through, there will be no neutral families. People will either stand with me or against me.”

Harry nodded, “And that begins and ends with one family. They are the first domino, when they fall, others will follow.”

Voldemort bowed his head in agreement.

“The Greengrass’s,” Draco said quietly.

“Indeed,” Voldemort said, he leant back, and Nagini slithered up onto the table, glancing warily at Artemis as she did so.

“The Blacks have always controlled the courts, and the Malfoys have never stopped dabbling in politics,” Voldemort continued.

“As you all know, getting those two families to work with me was rather easy, but there has always been one crucial piece of the puzzle missing.”

“The economy,” Harry said.

“The Greengrass’s have always controlled the economy, regardless of what the goblins think,” Voldemort agreed, “With them on our side, we will be unstoppable.”

There was a short silence as the youngsters wondered what to say to that.

“Naturally, you can understand how angry I would be should any of you fail me this year,” Voldemort said, his eyes falling on Draco, “Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, my lord,” Draco said, his tongue darting out nervously to lick his dry lips.

“We will not fail you, my lord,” Harry said, meeting Voldemort’s eye, _that’s a promise._

Voldemort bowed his head, “Dismissed.”

_Stay, Harry._

The other three got up, and Draco paused at the door for Harry. He looked back into the room, and Harry shook his head at the blonde boy. With a brisk nod, Draco left with Theo and Blaise.

Nagini hissed angrily at Artemis and Voldemort rolled his eyes. He switched to parseltongue and hissed, _“Nagini, do not be so petty. She is both a baby and biologically, a snake. You, my darling, are so much more.”_

Harry frowned, “ _What do you mean?”_ he asked in parseltongue.

Nagini turned her eyes on Harry – he had always found those eyes to be very human, and very knowing. It reminded him of when Sirius had looked at him in his dog form.

_“I was not always a snake. There was a time, long ago, when I was human.”_

Harry’s eyes widened, “ _Human?”_

Voldemort nodded, “ _Nagini is a Maledictus, the victim of a blood curse.”_

Harry did remember reading about them in a book about dark magic that he had found in the library of Malfoy Manor, “ _That’s terrible, Nagini, I’m sorry.”_

Nagini turned to Voldemort, “ _The young one is sorrowful?”_

_“Sometimes,”_ Voldemort replied, “ _We are trying our best to amend that.”_

Harry chuckled and apologised in English, “Sorry, my lord.”

“You are young; you will learn,” Voldemort said, his eyes on the wary Basilisk on Harry’s shoulders, “Does she speak?”

Harry shook his head, “Not any sense – it’s like baby talk. I get the odd word like ‘rat’ or ‘dark’. I was talking to her in parseltongue when I was in the basement. I was telling her stories; I thought it might help.”

“It has certainly helped with your pronunciation,” Voldemort mused, “You ought to keep a journal. It would be interesting to see how a Basilisk develops in its early years, so much about the process is unknown. I will give you an old leatherbound one of mine before you depart tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, “This is going to sound strange, but do you mind if I use the soul-link to talk to you while I’m at Hogwarts? I’ve kind of…well, I’ve kind of gotten used to it and I might…” he shrugged, “You know?”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, “Miss me?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Need your advice; that’s what I was going to say.”

Voldemort snorted softly, a rather ungracious sound of amusement, “Yes, you may use it, but if I do not reply, do not get offended. I am a busy man, Harry.”

“Yes, I know that,” Harry said, he felt very awkward all of a sudden and wished he hadn’t brought it up at all. He was dreading going back to Hogwarts - having to spend time with his old Gryffindor ‘friends’ and being ripped so far away from the solid companion he had found in Draco.

Voldemort sighed, “I doubt you will be as far away from him as you expect. I have requested a re-sorting on your behalf.”

Harry looked up, “A re-sorting?”

“One of the first books I had you read was “ _Hogwarts: A History”,_ I can see that you read it intently,” Voldemort said sarcastically.

“My head was all over the place in the early days,” Harry reminded Voldemort.

He seemed to take this excuse because he bowed his head in a slight nod, “One can request a re-sorting, or their parent or guardian can on their behalf. The circumstances require the individual to have gone through a significant change.”

Harry laughed and automatically touched his left arm, “Well, I’ve certainly done that.”

Voldemort chuckled, “I think we both know where you will end up.”

“Where I should have been all along,” Harry agreed with a nod.

Voldemort smiled slightly, “Indeed.”

Harry rose and paused, “Since I doubt you will be seeing me off at the platform tomorrow, I want to take this chance to thank you,” he turned to look at Voldemort, “For taking me in when you could have killed me where I stood and…for everything since then.”

Voldemort seemed unsure how to take this real show of emotion from Harry. He gave him a brisk nod, “You are welcome.”

That seemed to be all that needed to be and was going to be said. With a nod, Harry left the Dark Lord alone in the dining room.

* * *

On the 1st of September, Harry got up and packed his belongings into a trunk that Lucius and Narcissa had gifted him. It was the same as Draco’s, only with Harry’s initials on it. He headed downstairs and ate breakfast with the Malfoy’s – as he suspected, Voldemort was not present. It was a pleasant, ordinary morning, as he assumed most wizarding families had on the first day of term, the experience was a bit surreal.

“Lucius, are you coming with us this year, darling?” Narcissa asked as the ‘family’ were preparing to leave.

“Of course,” Lucius replied, pulling on a heavy cloak, “This is the last time I will be able to see Draco off, after all.”

Draco smiled, and Harry felt a pang of envy that he quickly pushed down. Together they apparated to Kings Cross and made their way onto Platform 9 ¾. It looked much like it did every other year, no Death Eaters patrolling the platform, no Dementors flying around sucking the joy out of the kids. Harry stuck by Draco and scanned the platform nervously, hoping he wouldn’t see Mrs Weasley or Neville.

“Onto the train, quickly, my love,” Narcissa murmured. She pulled Draco into a hug and kissed him on the cheek, “I will keep my distance this year. I do not want to intrude.”

Draco smiled, “Thank you, Mother.”

Lucius clapped his son on the shoulder and looked him in the eye, “Make us proud this year.”

“I will, Father,” Draco promised.

Harry felt awkward amongst the family and their goodbyes. He was just about to slip away when Narcissa gently gripped his wrist and pulled him into a hug. Harry was shocked because it had come as a complete surprise to him. He froze in her warm embrace and took a moment to marvel at how different this hug was from the ones Molly gave him every year. For a woman who Harry had once thought so cold, she exuded warmth, and it didn’t feel like she was trying to suffocate him.

Narcissa kissed his cheek softly and looked him in the eye, “Keep your head above water and if it gets too much, in here,” she tapped a long fingernail against his head, “Talk to Severus.”

“I will, thank you,” Harry said with a grateful smile.

“Good luck,” Lucius said, giving Harry a small nod.

Harry nodded back, then Draco said, “Come on, before any of your old friends show up.”

Harry followed him onto the train, but they did not stick together for long. Draco wanted to find Theo, and Harry needed to go to the Head Boy and Girl carriage to meet his leading lady for the year.

Thankfully, the carriage was close to the engine, so he didn’t pass anyone he knew on his way there. When he stepped inside, the Head Girl was already there. She looked up at him with curious dark blue eyes and smiled knowingly. She cocked her head at him, snapped her book shut and said.

“Harry Potter, back from the dark side. So, did they have cookies?”

Harry looked at the little Ravenclaw girl, his lips quirking up in amusement. She wasn’t little in terms of being young, but she was short and remarkably ballsy for her size. She was quite the embodiment of Rowena Ravenclaw herself with her jet black hair, pale skin and deep blue eyes. The way she looked at him as if she knew him and could see into his soul, it suggested wisdom beyond her years.

“Lillian Moon,” Harry said, throwing himself onto the bench seat opposite her, “I think I’m going to like you.”

She said nothing. She just surveyed him with knowing eyes.

“They have something much better than cookies, by the way,” Harry said offhandedly, “They have knowledge and teachers, or mentors if you will. I have learned about branches of magic that I had never even heard of before this summer.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, “And what else have you been doing this summer?”

“I’m sure you’re itching to find out, but unfortunately I can’t tell you just yet,” Harry said, leaning back in the bench seat.

Lily smirked, “Who would have thought one summer could have made you so boring? All the same, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Is that so?” Harry asked, his eyes locking onto hers.

Lily leant forward, “I’m going to hazard a guess and say that you got a new tattoo this year?” her eyes flitted towards his left arm which was currently hidden by the sleeve of his shirt, “And a new fashion sense, have you been sleeping with Draco Malfoy?”

Harry chuckled, “As much as he may want me to, no. That’s Theodore Notts job.”

Lily snorted, her eyes still on his, “New tattoo or not; I’m still not sure if you went all the way. Is Anakin Skywalker dead, am I talking to Darth Vader now?”

Harry chuckled at the Star Wars pun, “Harry Potter as you knew him is dead. The parts of my personality that make me vulnerable are gone. It was the Dark Lords insurance plan. He couldn’t have me betraying him after all, could he?”

“No, I suppose not,” Lily mused, “Harry Potter referring to the man who murdered his family as the Dark Lord…well, haven’t the tables turned?”

“Entirely,” Harry said with an easy smile, “For the better at that. I can finally see clearly now that Dumbledore isn’t here to confound me or have silly little girls slip me love potions.”

Lily hummed, “Ginny Weasley, I suppose? Or was it Granger? Both seemed infatuated with you at various points.”

Harry regarded that comment with interest, “It was Ginny, but Hermione helped her brew the potion. I’m surprised that you referred to her as ‘Granger’ you know? I thought you were friends.”

“I don’t have friends,” Lily said with a shrug, “I have people I like and people I don’t. I have people who are useful to me, people who might be useful to me one day and people who are dispensable.”

“Where do I fall into that category?” Harry asked curiously.

“Up until five minutes ago, you were dispensable,” Lily admitted, “But as it stands, I’m re-evaluating, chiefly because I think you had something to do with the fact I became Head Girl this year.”

“Me?” Harry asked, kicking his legs out and getting comfortable on the bench seat, “I’m not the Headmaster, what input could I possibly have had?”

Lily watched him as he wandlessly levitated a case with several holes poked into it, towards him, “Something tells me that you didn’t get Head Boy because of your boyish looks and charm.”

Harry grinned, “You noticed my growth spurt?”

“A few months ago, you were barely an inch taller than me, and now you tower over me,” Lily said, eying him carefully, “Your eyesight has been fixed, you’re…different.”

“Stronger,” Harry agreed with a nod, “Mentally and physically.”

“So whoever has been training you, has also been taking care of you,” Lily concluded, “Implying that they care for you. Therefore, you pull strings with someone high up.”

Harry grinned, “You _are_ smart. Honestly, the quiet girls like you get no credit while everyone is spouting off shit about Hermione Granger being the smartest witch of her age.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry cocked his head and asked, “Since you are so smart and perceptive, what do you see when you look at me?”

Lily was silent for a moment. The final whistle sounded, and the train began to pull away, but neither of them moved to the window to wave goodbye to anyone. After all, neither of them had any family to wave goodbye to.

“I see someone who is smarter than he wants anyone to know,” Lily answered, “And with the more irrational side of your personality locked away, you’re logical and methodical. I think we might get on rather well too.”

Harry smiled warmly; he did like Lily. She reminded him of Reyna, but unlike Reyna, she wasn’t off-limits, and he would be spending a great deal of time with her over the next year.

“You are right, about me knowing someone up high,” Harry said, “That person is the Dark Lord himself, somehow, I have managed to get in his favour this summer, and I fully intend to do everything in my power to stay there.”

Lily kept her composure wonderfully, and Harry admired her for it.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Lily asked, “How can a filthy mudblood be part of your grand plan?”

Harry shook his head, “No, you don’t see the big picture yet, but you will. You are so much more than a filthy mudblood. _You_ , Lillian Moon, are the key. You are everything; you set an example. You show everyone in this school that the Dark Lord is merciful, that he values all witches and wizards for their intelligence and magical power, not because of their blood.”

Lily frowned, “So he doesn’t hate Muggle-borns, and I’m the chess piece you’re going to use to show the world that?”

Harry shrugged, “It’s more complicated than that, but in essence, yes. You are going to open his eyes; you are a Muggle-born, a smart, capable, powerful Muggle-born who I suspect hates Muggles as much as I do.”

Lily’s frown deepened, “Okay, I’m confused. Are you working for him or not?”

Harry smirked, “I’m working _with_ him, and in time, you will understand why.”

Lily didn’t question him any further, “What did you mean, about Muggles?”

“I know your tragic backstory,” Harry said, surveying her, “Your dad got your mum pregnant, out of wedlock,” he tutted, “Then he ran off because he didn’t want to deal with the consequences. So your mum became an alcoholic, and then a nasty boyfriend got her into drugs. She neglected you, and I suspect her boyfriends abused you-”

Lily crossed the carriage and held her wand to his throat.

“I don’t care if you’re a Death Eater, I don’t care if you’re Voldemort’s right-hand man, I will not let you speak to me like that,” she hissed as she pressed the tip against the soft flesh of his throat, “Those _bastards_ tried, they all tried, and every single one of them regretted it!”

Harry smiled slightly, not at all phased by the wand at his throat.

“So, I was right. We do have a lot in common. We _do_ hate Muggles as much as each other.”

Harry grabbed her wand and pushed it and her hand to the side, pressing himself into her to stop her from pulling away, “Do you want to hear the story of how I murdered my abusive Muggle family? It might give you some ideas.”

Lily’s eyes flashed, but she loosened her grip on her wand, “You’re too late for that. I killed one of them when I was ten and the other when I was thirteen.”

Harry sat up straight and looked her in the eye, “How?”

“You can control accidental magic, if you’re smart enough,” Lily whispered, her eyes still on his, “If you understand what’s happening to you, if you’re calm enough, you can channel it.”

Her hand burned hot against the skin on Harry’s shoulder, but he didn’t flinch.

“You can channel it all into your hands and with one touch,” Lily whispered, trailing her hand down until it was over his heart, “You can burn the life out of the deadbeat piece of shit who wants you to call him Daddy.”

Harry placed his hand over Lily’s and whispered a spell that she had never heard, in a language that she did not even understand. Her hand stopped burning, but she didn’t move it, just like she didn’t take her eyes away from Harry’s.

Harry’s eyes moved down her face, settling on her lips for one brief second before they both moved at the same time – lips crashing together in a harsh kiss that was all teeth on lips, tongues fighting tongues, and hands grabbing at clothes. She had been leaning over him, virtually on his lap anyway, so getting her there hadn’t been difficult. Harry moved his lips from hers to her neck, and a feeble hiss came from the box behind her.

Harry rolled his eyes at the intrusion and hissed in parseltongue, “ _Open_.”

Lily pulled back and looked at him in surprise. Harry’s eyes were focused on a spot over her shoulder, “ _You can come out now_.”

Lily watched his lips as they formed the hisses, her lips open slightly in surprise.

Harry smirked when Lily’s calm composure broke for the first time - the moment Artemis slithered over her lap onto his shoulder’s. She let out a yelp and jumped off of him.

Harry stroked the snakes head and murmured, “Way to kill the mood, Artemis.”

Lily stared in disbelief, “That’s a Basilisk.”

“Yes, she’s called Artemis,” Harry said with an amused smile, “Use her name, she has feelings, you know?”

Lily sat down on the opposite bench and looked from the snake to Harry, “And what do you mean ‘killed the mood’? Did you think I would sleep with you on the Hogwarts Express?”

Harry smirked, “You seemed eager enough.”

Lily scoffed, “I don’t know who you’ve been spending your summer with, but I have more self-respect than that.”

_How long for, I wonder_ , Harry thought to himself.

A thought that was not his own invaded his mind.

_Remember the task at hand. Do not get distracted by the pretty little Ravenclaw you had me instate for you_.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Artemis settled down on his shoulders and Lily opened up her book once more, shooting curious looks over the top of it at Harry when she thought he wasn’t looking. Regardless of what she said, Harry gave it a week until she caved to the ‘boyish charm’ she had mentioned earlier in their initial meeting. He smirked to himself at the very thought.

* * *

Harry and Lily talked on and off throughout the train journey, and by the end of it, she was far less wary of Artemis than she had been, to begin with. When they got to Hogsmeade, they shared a carriage up to the castle, and Lily spoke up.

“I presume you’re going to spend all of your time in the Head Boy and Girl quarters?”

Harry looked over at her, “Well, that depends.”

“On?”

“The house I’m in this year,” Harry said, leaving that hanging in the air, “And the company.”

Lily didn’t frown or ask Harry what he meant. She raised an eyebrow at him instead, “You requested a re-sorting.”

“Technically, my guardian requested one on my behalf,” Harry said with a shrug, “But I think we can agree that I have been through a significant change lately.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lily said, shooting him an amused look, “I presume you will end up in Ravenclaw or Slytherin.”

Harry hadn’t even considered Ravenclaw, he voiced that opinion to Lily, and she asked, “Why would you assume that because you’re ‘bad’ now that you would go into Slytherin? Our houses are as linked as our founders were – Ravenclaws, Slytherins, we share many of the same traits, and those traits complement each other.”

It was a fair point; Harry wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it. As Lily said, even the Founders were linked. While Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff had married ‘outsiders’, Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw had found solace in each other for several years before Salazar left the castle.

“Do you think they loved each other?” Harry asked her curiously.

Lily looked up in surprise, whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that, “Who? Salazar and Rowena?”

Harry nodded.

Lily thought about it for a moment as Hogwarts loomed in the distance, “I’m not sure if it was love, but I think it was companionship. She shared many of his views, but his more radical ones set them apart, I guess.”

Harry didn’t say anything as he thought about that. Lily had a point, about how maybe Ravenclaw would suit him as well as Slytherin these days, but his gut feeling told him that he would end up in Slytherin regardless.

The carriage came to a stop, and Lily opened the door. She turned around and asked, “Are you coming?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, it’s just…”

“You’re going to see a lot of people who don’t care for you much these days,” Lily finished.

“Exactly that,” Harry said, getting out of the carriage and looking at the school up ahead.

“Well,” Lily said, “It’s a good thing you don’t have to walk in there alone then, isn’t it?”

Harry gave a thoughtful nod.

Lily added, “And the Basilisk on your shoulders is imposing enough that only an idiot would say anything to your face.”

Harry would have smiled in thanks, but he was preoccupied with the person who had just stepped out of a carriage. He met Neville’s eye, and all he saw was disdain there.

“Be careful who you associate with this year, Lily,” Neville said as Ginny stepped out of the carriage behind him, “Some people don’t deserve your kindness.”

“I’m an excellent judge of character, thanks Neville,” Lily said. She turned back to Harry, “What did I just say about idiots?”

Harry couldn’t find it in himself to laugh, and Lily sensed that. She took a step and said, “Come on, Harry, you had better get to the great hall early. You can’t miss your re-sorting.”

Harry tried to ignore the cold, hard look he had seen in Ginny’s eyes. What right did she have to look at him like that anyway? After all that she had done after she had drugged him and strung him along. She was as much to blame for what he had become as Dumbledore, Ron and her mother were.

He had known it would be hard, coming back here, facing the people he would rather not have to. It wouldn’t have surprised Harry if this was a test from Voldemort – it would have been easy to stay at Malfoy Manor, to learn more, to grow colder, to embody Voldemort even more but coming back here? Coming back to his old life as a completely different person, nothing about that was easy.

They entered the hall, and Lily murmured, “Good luck,” before branching off towards the Ravenclaw table.

Harry looked straight ahead at Snape, hoping for some guidance. Was he to go to the Gryffindor table? A Gryffindor badge was still embroidered on his robes after all.

Snape gave him a nod and beckoned him over. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief - an ally, thank Merlin for that. He had gotten so used to Draco over the summer; he felt a little lost without him. Harry supposed that was what Voldemort meant about friendship being dangerous, it could make you get a bit too comfortable, and when you were comfortable, you let your guard down.

Harry enjoyed the gasps of shock and the odd scream that his presence (and Artemis’s) elicited from the students, but he tried to avoid looking at the rest of the staff. It wasn't easy when he could feel their eyes on him as he walked towards Snape. Most of the teachers were careful not to show any emotion, one way or the other. Slughorn watched Harry with curious eyes, and Flitwick gave him a small nod as if to say he understood why he had done what he did. Harry felt like he had more allies at the Head table than he did in the great hall. Bill gave him a small smile, and Harry supposed that Ginny was silently seething about that.

The one person who Harry didn’t want to look at was McGonagall, but he knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever. When she looked at him, there was no warmth in her eyes, no forgiveness, but then again, Harry hadn’t expected any. She had been Dumbledore’s right hand, she worshipped the ground that he walked on, she would never turn to their cause, and although he wished he could convince her, deep down, he knew that nothing he did would be enough.

“Potter,” Snape said when Harry reached him.

“Headmaster,” Harry returned.

“You will be re-sorted at once,” Snape commanded.

Harry nodded, better to get it over and done with he supposed. He looked up at Artemis and hissed softly, “ _Sit on the floor until I tell you otherwise.”_

Artemis slithered down his shoulders and curled up on the floor, by Harry’s feet.

McGonagall got to her feet and pulled the sorting hat out from beneath the table. She looked out at the students in the hall and said tersely, “As per the rules of Hogwarts, lain out in our school charter, Mr Potter has requested a re-sorting which is to be actioned immediately.”

She didn’t give him much notice; she just put the hat on his head to whispers and jeers from the great hall's occupants.

Inside his head, the sorting hat spoke, _Mr Potter, back again?_

_Yes,_ Harry thought back, _Because I told you not to put me in Slytherin the last time, and I was wrong._

_Interesting indeed. Well-_

_Wait!_ Harry thought, _Whatever your logic, can you do me a favour? Can you say it out loud?_

Harry could almost hear the hat smirking as it said, _Very well._

The hats rip of a mouth opened, and it began to think aloud, to the students' interest, and perhaps some of the teachers.

“As I told you back in your first year – plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent and a thirst to prove yourself _.”_

The hall was silent as the hat deliberated, “You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that.”

An intake of breath came from the Slytherin table.

The hat continued, “When we spoke in your second year, I re-iterated that, if you remember, Harry Potter? I told you that you would have done well in Slytherin and now, well there is no doubt about it, Slytherin is where you belong.”

The hat’s mouth opened wider, and it cried, “ **SLYTHERIN!”**

Harry smirked as McGonagall took the hat from his head. The Slytherin table erupted in cheers. Harry looked down and hissed, “ _Come, Artemis.”_

The snake slithered along behind him as Harry strolled over to the Slytherin table and pushed Theodore Nott aside to sit down next to Draco.

Theo snorted, “King Potter has arrived.”

Harry shot the boy a grin, “King? Come on, Theodore; I’ve got to be less than ‘lord’ or our master will think I’m usurping him.”

“Viscount Potter doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, pal,” Theo joked.

Harry chuckled as Artemis crawled back onto his shoulders. Draco gave the snake a wary look and smiled at Harry, “Housemates, at last.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the blonde boy, “6 years and a few false starts later, yeah.”

Blaise patted him on the back, “Good to have you with us, Harry.”

A dark-skinned, dark-haired girl narrowed her eyes and looked at Harry, “How are you lot so friendly, exactly?”

Harry smiled slightly, “It’s been an interesting summer. Who are you?”

The girl held out her hand, “Tracey Davis, the token Slytherin half-blood in our year.”

Harry smirked, “Sorry Tracey, but I’ve just knocked you off that pedestal,” he said, glancing at the badge on his robes which was now a Slytherin badge.

Another girl chuckled softly, drawing Harry’s attention to her. She had light brown hair, full lips and big, dark green eyes, “I’m Sophie Roper,” she said in an accent that took Harry a moment to place.

“American?”

Sophie smiled broadly and opened her mouth - as she spoke Daphne and Tracey mimicked her accent and words.

“Charlotte, North Carolina.”

Sophie glared at them, “Would y’all be quiet?”

Harry grinned, “I love that; it’s great.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, “He’s been in the door five minutes, and he’s already trying to get into your pants, Sophie. Typical.”

Harry tore his eyes away from the pretty American girl to look upon Daphne. She was as quintessentially, beautifully English as they came. She had that same frosty demeanour that Narcissa had before Harry had gotten to know her, that same ice-blonde hair, those same piercing blue eyes. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would have had her and Draco down as siblings.

“Do you have a problem with me, Daphne?”

Daphne smiled sweetly, “No, of course not. I was simply protecting my friend's honour.”

From Draco’s other side, Pansy snorted. She leant forward, sweeping her dark brown hair away from her eyes, “Daphne, darling, you just don’t like being outnumbered. Do you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Daphne said airily.

“Before the summer, those of us with links to the Dark Lord were the minority,” Pansy smirked, “But look around you, are we the minority now?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, do be quiet, Pansy,” he said as Artemis lifted her head and hissed in Pansy’s general direction.

Pansy shrieked and covered her ears, making some of the Slytherins laugh.

Daphne looked incredibly amused by her housemate's reaction, “Relax, Pansy. Can’t you tell that she’s a baby? At best, she’ll give you a sore head.”

This caught Harry’s attention, he looked over at Daphne, “You know an awful lot about Basilisks.”

Daphne met his eye, “My uncle is a curse breaker, he works in the Middle East where a lot of people try, and usually fail, to hatch Basilisks.”

“How could you tell that Artemis was a she?” Harry asked curiously.

“The females have longer fangs than males. Is this a pop quiz, Potter?” Daphne asked, the edges of her mouth almost threatening to quirk up into a smile.

Harry grinned, “Not at all, Greengrass. Just a friendly conversation.”

“About the deadly snake on your shoulders,” Pansy muttered irritably.

Draco clamped his hand over her mouth.

“You were not there when the Dark Lord decreed that we are to treat every order that comes from Harry’s mouth as if it were his own. I think Harry, being as reasonable as he is, will put this first error of yours down to ignorance but if there is another, I doubt he will treat it so kindly.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, “You make a better soldier than I gave you credit for and he’s right, Pansy. Once is an accident, twice is disrespectful and if there is to be a third time? Well, let’s put it this way, you don’t want there to be a third time.”

Pansy looked furious, but she clamped her mouth shut anyway. The first years came into the hall, led by Sprout rather than Hagrid this year. Harry presumed he was on the run, being half-giant and all, he would have expected persecution at Hogwarts.

In his place at the table sat Wilhelmina Grubblyplank who Snape had convinced to come out of retirement. Beyond that, most of the teachers remained the same except for Bill and the Carrow twins who were, of course, new additions.

They were silent as the sorting took place and afterwards, when everyone tucked into the food, Harry chanced a glance at the Gryffindor table – as he suspected, Ron and Hermine were not there.

Neville, Ginny and Seamus were back, and Harry suspected they would try and revive Dumbledore’s Army in some form so he would need to be wary of that. He looked to the Hufflepuff table where he saw Susan Bones, a potential ally of Neville’s and Hannah Abbott, who would keep her head down and her mouth shut if she had any sense. Voldemort suspected her father, Howard, of funding the light and the moment he got proof, he would punish Howard. Ernie Macmillan was another loose cannon, the heir to a neutral family who Harry may or may not convince to join their cause.

“Daydreaming, Potter?” Theo asked.

Harry shook his head, his eyes falling on the Ravenclaw table, “No, Theo. I’m just assessing the situation, seeing who will allow us to live and keep their head down and who will rise against us.”

Lily must have sensed his gaze; she was sitting next to Luna at the Ravenclaw table. She looked up and caught his eye, but rather than tearing her gaze away; she maintained eye contact.

Harry smirked in response, and Blaise asked, “Got a girlfriend already, have you? You moved on from Reyna fast.”

Harry laughed, still looking at Lily, “Reyna is off limits – the Dark Lord _and_ her father made that clear but Lillian Moon… She’s interesting. I think she may well be our first female Muggle-born Death Eater.”

Pansy laughed but said nothing, probably due to the harsh glare that Draco sent his way.

“I thought the Dark Lord did not initiate Muggle-borns or women for that matter,” Daphne said pointedly.

“I know of at least one Muggle-born Death Eater,” Harry said, tearing his eyes away from Lily to look at Daphne, “And yes, he is wary of initiating women, but I think that girl will show him why he ought to initiate some more. Yes, women can be emotional, but that isn’t a bad thing. A woman who kills in an emotional fit of rage is an asset, not a liability.”

Tracey laughed, “One would think you were trying to recruit us all, Potter.”

Harry smiled at her, “Maybe I am.”

Draco touched his leg under the table and leant in a little closer to murmur, “Slow down, we have the whole year.”

Theo shot Harry an amused look and muttered, “Real show of ‘brotherly’ love there.”

Harry snorted under his breath in response and flicked Draco’s hand off of his leg. He looked across the table at Daphne, who was watching the exchange warily, and Harry knew from her cautious approach that she was going to be a tough nut to crack.

* * *

When Harry walked into his new common room that evening, he felt like the temperature dropped by five degrees and it had nothing to do with the fact he was at the bottom of the school. Nobody would dare challenge him, he was Head Boy, and everyone with any common sense knew that he was with the Dark Lord, but that didn’t stop the glares or the younger students' wary glances.

It didn’t bother him too much. He was used to being looked at like he had a second head. At least this time their accusations were true.

“What are you all looking at?” Draco asked, glancing around the common room, “Never seen a re-sorting before, have you?”

“I doubt any of them have seen one that dramatic,” Daphne drawled, pushing past Draco into the common room.

Harry stepped forward and said, “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Draco. I can fight them by myself, so if anyone wants to say what they are thinking out loud, come on over here.”

Nobody moved, and Harry laughed humourlessly, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ll say this once and hope that will be it, yes I joined the Dark Lord,” he pulled up his sleeve to show them the Dark Mark.

“And I killed that manipulative old fool Dumbledore because he ruined my life. I’m not your enemy, I’m not the fox in the henhouse – I’m someone the Dark Lord trusts, and I am someone whose bad side you do not want to be on.”

He didn’t see the point in waiting around for people to argue, and it didn’t look like they were going to anyway. Stepping down from the doorway, Harry headed for the dormitories, and Draco walked with him.

“Have you got a bed in our dormitory?” Draco asked curiously.

Harry shook his head and walked into the dormitory corridor, “There’s a door that leads into the Head Boys dorm and from there, I can access the Slytherin common room or the shared Head common room.”

Draco leant against the wall, “Cool – so is this like the Dark Lords private quarters? We come in without permission, and it’s bang – crucio against the wall?”

Harry shot him an amused look, “If you interrupted me shagging someone, I’d probably crucio you up against a wall, otherwise just knock and come in.”

Draco surveyed him for a moment.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Harry said, meeting his friend's eye, “But I’m not him. I’m _like_ him in a lot of ways, yes. But I’m not him. I know he said that you should treat my orders as if they had come from him, but I don’t want you to follow me because you’re scared, Draco. I want you to follow me because you respect me.”

Draco smiled slightly, “I get it now, you know?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Get what?”

“Something my father said about you when he got out of prison,” Draco admitted, “He said maybe I would finally find the friend I had been looking for – someone that I could learn to respect in exchange for respect in return – not someone to boss around or do my bidding.”

Harry chuckled at that.

“Fancy a game of Chess?” Draco asked.

Harry shot him an apologetic look, “Not tonight. I have news that I need to relay to the Dark Lord, but rain check?”

“Sure,” Draco replied, pushing himself off of the wall, “Night, Harry.”

Harry smiled and opened the door to his dorm, “Night, Draco,” he said before stepping inside.

*** TBC ***


	18. Are You a Saint or a Sinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s old friends have some questions that need to be answered, and Harry’s resolve to show people that the Death Eaters are not all bad is unbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab.
> 
> * * * SMUT BETWEEN HARRY + LILY IN THIS CHAPTER * * *

Harry knew there would be drama; it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’; it was a matter of ‘when’ and the answer was at breakfast the following morning. He was sitting at the Slytherin table, in-between Draco and Theo when the inevitable happened.

“So what do you reckon the new classes are going to be like?” Theo asked.

“Defensive Magic will be good,” Harry said, casting his gaze towards Bill, “I think Bill will be like Lupin.”

“Without the biting problem,” Blaise snorted.

“No, that’s his brother's job,” Pansy sneered.

Harry knew what she meant, but not everyone did.

“What do you mean, Pans?” Tracey asked curiously.

“Fred, he got bitten by Greyback in the summer,” Pansy replied importantly.

Harry couldn’t stand Pansy, so he had to show her up, “Don’t act like you were there, Pansy. You only know because your Daddy told you. I _was_ there, and yes, Greyback did bite Fred, shortly before he lost his head.”

Daphne looked up in surprise, her eyes narrowing.

“Don’t look at me like I’m about to curse you,” Harry said, meeting her gaze, “I wasn’t on board with a werewolf going into battle with us in the first place, but I don’t get to make requests like that yet.”

“I don’t think you’re going to curse me, but I do think that all you care about is recruiting my family,” Daphne said sharply.

“Well, you’re wrong,” Harry said.

“Yes, your family are hugely important, and if you were on our side, we would be thrilled, but we’ll win this war with or without you. I wouldn’t blackmail you or hurt your family to recruit you because I want loyal followers. I want people who are with us because they believe in us because they want to build the same world we do, a better world, and a fairer world for witches and wizards. If I force you to be on our side, you won’t be loyal, will you? It’s of no interest to me, imperiused followers, blackmailed followers,” he shook his head, “I want _willing_ followers, and if you’re not willing to follow us, then that’s fine, but I would appreciate it if you could at least let me try to be your friend.”

Tracey whistled, “Well, that’s you told.”

“Quit icing him,” Sophie agreed.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“She gets called the Ice Queen,” Tracey explained, “Because she’s as cold as ice.”

Harry cocked his head at Daphne, “So I need an ice pick to get you to like me?”

“What in the hell is an ice pick?” Daphne replied.

Harry and Tracey shared an amused look.

Tracey raised a hand to hi-five him, “I love having another half-blood around.”

Harry hi-fived her and laughed, and at that point, the cheerful mood was killed by Ginny Weasley. She walked past the table and muttered loudly, “Murdering scum.”

Harry turned around and said, “What the hell did you just say?”

Ginny spun around and glared at him, “You heard me, _traitor_.”

Harry laughed and turned around on the bench as the hall fell silent, “Excuse me but who dosed who with Amortentia for a whole fucking year? Oh yes, that was you drugging me, wasn’t it?”

Ginny glared at him, her cheeks reddening.

“All so that I would fall in love with you and be Dumbledore’s perfect little golden boy,” Harry scoffed, “Well, Ginny, with all the charms, removed, I wouldn’t even look twice at you so run along to your own table, won’t you?”

Draco, Theo and Blaise all laughed and with red cheeks, Ginny hurried away from the table.

“She actually dosed you with Amortentia?” Daphne asked, leaning forward.

Harry nodded, “Yep, she dosed me with Amortentia, Ron pretended to be my friend, Hermione probably helped her make the Amortentia. Dumbledore lied to me and manipulated my life to the point that I ended up in the wrong house for six fucking years.”

“How can you end up in the wrong house?” Blaise asked curiously, “I thought the sorting hat was never wrong?”

Draco shook his head, “It uses low-level Legilimency, which means it can be influenced. So when this idiot was shouting ‘NOT SLYTHERIN’ in his head, the hat decided to go with its second choice, which was Gryffindor.”

“What he said,” Harry agreed.

“Huh,” Theo mused, “I never knew you had a choice. I was a hat-stall too, stuck between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

“I wasn’t,” Draco said smugly.

Harry snorted, “Course you weren’t, the hat was screaming SLYTHERIN before it had even touched the hairs on your head.”

Draco nudged him in the ribs, and they both chuckled, to the bemusement of the Slytherins who had only seen them as enemies for the past six years.

* * *

The remainder of Harry’s first day back was relatively peaceful until his second last class of the day finished. Potions then Defensive Magic meant a trek from the dungeons up to the third-floor tower where Snape had formerly taught Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He was walking with Blaise when Neville fell into step with him and lowered his voice, “It’s not a conversation for public, but I hope you know me well enough to know I won’t curse you on sight,” he said coolly, “I do feel like I’m owed an explanation, though.”

Harry nodded and turned to his old friend, “Yeah, Neville, I think I owe you that. I’ll see you there, Blaise,” he said, giving the dark-skinned boy a nod.

The moment Blaise left, the air felt awkward. Harry pulled back a tapestry, and they stepped inside into a steep secret passageway together. As they climbed upwards, Harry explained, “That night I came to you, I had been summoned by someone, you remember?”

“Yes,” Neville replied.

“It was Snape,” Harry said, “He showed me some memories, and it became clear that I was part of Dumbledore’s plan, a pawn in his game really. He wanted to use me, to have me die at the right moment to stop Voldemort. Ginny had been dosing me with Amortentia all year. Dumbledore had paid Molly to take me in and look after me in the summers, and she had told Ron to befriend me and to make me terrified of Slytherin house because Dumbledore knew it would ruin his plan if I went into the house I should have been in all along.”

From behind him, Neville said, “And then you killed Dumbledore, and joined the man who killed your parents, and is responsible for the fate of mine.”

Harry stopped and turned around to look at Neville, “The Dark Lord didn’t kill my parents, Peter Pettigrew did, and I killed him for that.”

Neville looked at him warily, keeping a safe distance which made Harry a little bit sad. He understood why Neville didn’t trust him anymore, but it still hurt.

“And he didn’t torture your parents either,” Harry said quietly, “The Lestrange’s did and the Dark Lord, he was angry about that, Neville. They took out two Aurors, two purebloods at the top of their game. The Dark Lord wanted them on his side; he didn’t want them killed. Just like he didn’t want my parents killed, he had spent years trying to recruit my mum.”

“The Dark Lord,” Neville said, shaking his head in disbelief, “What the hell did he do to you?”

“He told me the truth,” Harry said, his eyes flashing, “He treated me like a fucking human being. He fixed my eyesight, gave me potions to help me grow, fixed the malnutrition I suffered under the Muggles. Are you seriously telling me Dumbledore couldn’t do that? After all of the times I’ve been admitted to the hospital wing? Why wouldn’t he help me, make me better? It’s because he wanted to keep me weak, to keep me down, which is why he kept sending me home to abusive relatives.”

Neville scoffed, “Come off it, Harry. Abusive relatives don’t make you go dark – look at me, I’m not evil because my Uncle beat the shit out of me, am I?”

Harry looked him dead in the eye, “If you knew you could kill your Uncle for what he did, no questions asked, no consequences – are you seriously telling me you wouldn’t do it?”

Neville didn’t answer the question.

“Exactly,” Harry said, his tone quiet but deadly, “He hasn’t brainwashed me, I can’t be brainwashed. You saw me resist the imperius curse in fourth year, you’ve seen the level of pain I can withstand. I’m with the Dark Lord because I want to be and because he’s right, Neville. We’re living in oppression because of Muggles, and Muggles like my Aunt and Uncle get to beat the shit out of wizarding kids like me and get away with it.”

Neville’s eyes widened with realisation, “That’s why you made Lily the Head Girl, to get Muggle-borns on your side. The two of you, united together because you had shitty abusive childhoods?”

Harry leant against the wall of the tunnel and raised an eyebrow at him, “You know what her step-fathers did to her?”

“Of course I do, she’s my friend,” Neville said irritably.

“And you know what she did to them?” Harry asked.

Neville cast his gaze down to avoid looking Harry in the eye.

“They deserved it, just like my Aunt and Uncle deserved it,” Harry said, “And just like your deadbeat of an Uncle deserves it. We’re not monsters, Neville. _Witches and wizards, **us,**_ we are better than them. We are their evolution; they just can’t see it.”

Neville stared at him for a long moment, “I understand why you did it, although I find it hard to believe that Ginny would dose you with Amortentia if I’m honest. But I still can’t accept what you did, Harry.”

“Accept it or don’t, Neville – that’s up to you,” Harry said, pushing off the wall, “But either way, that’s all in the past, and all I’m looking at now is my future.”

Before he turned away from Neville, Harry looked him in the eye and said, “And there will always be a place for you by my side, if you should choose to take it.”

“I won’t,” Neville promised him.

Harry gave him a half-smile, “Then all I can hope is that at some point, you change your mind.”

He held his hand out to Neville. The taller man sighed but took it and shook it firmly anyway. That was the end of their exchange, and the rest of the walk to Defensive Magic was in complete silence.

* * *

When Harry and Neville walked into Bill’s classroom, they instantly parted ways. Neville sat down next to Seamus and Harry took the last remaining seat near his Slytherin kin, in-between Daphne and Draco.

“You were almost late,” Bill said from where he was leaning against the blackboard, “And I’d give you detention for that if it weren’t for the Basilisk on your shoulders.”

“Professor Weasley,” Zacharias Smith piped up, “The last time _I_ checked, snakes weren’t on the approved pet list.”

“Smith, the last time _I_ checked nobody in your family had a brain,” Bill said matter of factly.

“Bonded familiars are accepted as pets, and since Mr Potter talks to his snake, which is surprisingly not a euphemism, it is accepted. Haven’t any of you lot read _Hogwarts: A History_?”

“Hermione Granger has, but she’s too busy shacking up with your younger brother in a tent to care about her education,” Harry remarked matter of factly.

“Thank you for reminding me of that fact,” Bill said dryly, “But we are here to discuss Defensive Magic so let’s begin, shall we?”

There was a general murmur of agreement, so Bill turned to the blackboard and rolled up his sleeves. There was a sharp intake of breath around the room when those who weren’t in the know, saw the telltale snake tattoo on his left arm.

“Sir,” Zacharias shouted, “Why have you got a Dark Mark?”

Harry snorted as Bill turned around and looked at Smith in disbelief, “Because I’m a Death Eater, obviously. Why else would I have it?”

“It does look pretty cool to be fair,” Harry said, “If you’re into snakes that is, which I am, of course,” he shot Daphne a smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

Lily threw a quill at his head from the table behind, “Shut up and let the guy teach, Potter .”

“On whose authority, Moon?” Harry asked, shooting a grin over his shoulder at her.

“Mine, as Head Girl I’m your equal so quite flirting with Daphne and do something useful,” Lily said, her eyes flashing playfully.

“Like?”

“Cast a Patronus,” Daphne said with a smirk, “I’m sure everyone will be intrigued to see how un-stag-like it is these days.”

“He can’t,” Ernie piped up, “He’s a Death Eater and therefore a dark wizard, and everyone knows that dark wizards can’t cast Patronus’s.”

Bill snorted and waved his wand, lazily, “Expecto Patronum!”

A sphinx meandered out of his wand, and he smirked at the Hufflepuff, “Death Eaters are not necessarily dark wizards, and even then, dark wizards still have happy memories. Trust me, most of my thoughts about my French wife would enable me to cast that spell.”

Harry chuckled and raised his wand, “Expecto Patronum!”

There was an amazed silence as the giant Basilisk slithered out of his wand.

“What do you think about then?” Ernie asked smugly, “You don’t have a French wife.”

“My family,” Harry answered.

Seamus laughed cruelly, “How? Your family are dead.”

“My blood family are,” Harry agreed, “But the Malfoys took me in and treated me like one of their own. I’ve had more kindness from them in one summer than I’ve had in a lifetime from my blood family so with all due respect Seamus, shut your fucking mouth.”

Before Seamus could kick-off, Bill cut in, “Look – you all have ideas about what makes us good or what makes us evil but it’s very rare you find a person who is truly evil or truly pure. We all have good and bad inside of us, and at different points in our lives, we act on both. So why should we exclude certain areas of magic from our lives? Why should we only learn about ‘good’ magic or ‘bad’ magic?”

“Because we’ll become dark wizards otherwise,” a Ravenclaw boy said.

Lily scoffed, “How? Is an Auror who kills a thief with dark magic bad if killing that thief means they save an innocent life?”

“Is a Death Eater who saves an innocent person good? Even if that ‘innocent’ person later kills their fellow Death Eaters in a battle?” Bill countered.

There was another stunned silence.

“We can practice dark magic without being dark as long as we never take it too far,” Bill explained, “Which is why the Dark Lord split Defence Against the Dark Arts into two subjects this year. Professor Carrow will teach you how to fight, and I will teach you how to defend yourself. You will learn about all sorts of magic, and it is up to you to decide how you use that knowledge because that’s free will and that’s what magic should always have been about.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, “Look at Merlin and Morgana le Fay. One is classed as a good wizard and the other as an evil witch, but they both used dark magic to achieve their goals. The only difference was that Merlin ultimately used it for good and Morgana was a slightly unhinged bitch; I know a Death Eater a bit like that actually.”

“Watch it,” Draco muttered, kicking him under the table.

“I said I liked the Malfoys, not those associated with them through marriage,” Harry teased in a stage whisper, and Draco bit back an amused grin.

Bill ignored the comment and carried on with the class, but Harry zoned out a little when Draco slid a note in front of him. He glanced down and read, _“I get it now. Why you freaked out so much on Midsummer, it’s not because you’re not into guys, its because you think of me like family.”_

Harry looked up from the parchment and gave him a nod, then he jotted down, “ _I’m more into your boyfriend than you, no offence.”_

Draco snorted and glanced to his other side to make sure Theo wasn’t paying attention, then he scribbled, _“He’s hardly my boyfriend, Father would have my guts. We have fun together, but I’m betrothed to a Greengrass, remember?”_

Harry gave a little nod and chanced a glance at Daphne. He noticed that her eyes were on the paper. She looked away quickly, but Harry could tell she had read it, so he raised an eyebrow at her.

She leant over and murmured in his ear, “Hopefully he marries my younger sister. Otherwise, I can see an unfortunate accident in his future.”

Harry grinned in amusement and ignored the shiver her hot breath against his skin had sent down his spine. He figured maybe it was best to just concentrate on the lesson at hand before his thoughts got too carried away, and he got a mental beating from Voldemort.

* * *

That night, Harry lay in his bed, having plunged the room into complete darkness. He closed his eyes and focused the entirety of his mental strength on feeling for the piece of Voldemort’s soul inside him. When he found it, he used it to guide him to Voldemort’s mind. He could tell the moment he was there because a wave of irritation overwhelmed him, and he knew it wasn’t his own.

_Bee in your bonnet?_

Harry instantly felt Voldemort’s irritation lift and turn to amusement.

_You are getting very good at that. I almost didn’t feel the intrusion._

_Thank you,_ Harry thought, _How are things back at base?_

_You have been gone for two days, Harry. Nothing of note has happened. Do you have news to report from Hogwarts?_

_Yes,_ Harry answered, _Ron and Hermione aren’t here, so I suspect they are together. If you want clarification of that, ask Bill or Charlie Weasley though._

_Do you believe they are merely hiding, or do you think they are actively looking for my Horcruxes?_

_Honestly? I don’t know,_ Harry thought, _If I were you, I would retrieve them and put them somewhere safe, just in case. But I doubt they have a fucking clue where any of them are anyway._

_One of them is already somewhere safe, but there are two more I ought to retrieve. One is at Hogwarts, so I will need your assistance. Return to Malfoy Manor when I call you and bring a trusted Death Eater, someone intelligent enough to help you navigate a labyrinth._

_Understood,_ Harry managed to think before Voldemort pushed him out of his head.

* * *

“Neville has a bit of a thing for you, doesn’t he?”

Lily looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow, “If I were a ginger, maybe.”

Harry snorted, “He’s into Ginny?”

Lily chuckled and closed her book; they were alone in the Head common room, “You really aren’t very perceptive, even now that you’ve turned off all your pesky emotions.”

“I haven’t turned anything off,” Harry said truthfully, “I’ve just locked away my remorse.”

“It’s not a permanent fix though,” Lily said knowingly, “It’s all going to tumble out at some point, isn’t it?”

“Oh, probably,” Harry answered offhandedly, “And if I’ve got any humanity left by that point, I’ll probably kill myself in shame.”

“Well,” Lily said thoughtfully, “At least you know your limitations.”

Harry chuckled in amusement and sat down next to her, “How much does Neville know about you?”

Lily narrowed her eyes, “Why?”

“I spoke with him earlier, and he seemed to know a lot about you, about what you did to those Muggles,” Harry explained.

“He knows the revised version,” Lily said with a shrug, “Poor little me with a big bad man above me ‘accidentally’ killed him. You know the truth.”

Harry watched her with interest, “There’s a darkness inside you that I can relate to. When you kill with malicious intent like that, it doesn’t matter if you’re a kid, if the victim is a bad person, it taints your soul. It’s why murder has to be committed to complete the darkest of rituals.”

Lily kept her gaze on his as Harry spoke softly.

“When you work that out, you can feel the darkness inside yourself, and you have a choice. You can lock it away, try to be a good person and hope that the good will win out or you can surrender yourself to it, let it spread into you and make you stronger, more powerful,” Harry said, “You’ve been fighting it for a while, haven’t you?”

Lily smirked at him, “Yes, I have. But then again, you fought it for a long time too before you surrendered.”

“Surrendering to it was the best thing I ever did,” Harry said, “For the first time in my life, I feel free. Don’t you want to know what that feels like? To not have to build walls in your mind? To act as you want to, not as everyone else wants you to?”

Lily didn’t answer; she just bit her lip.

“Some people, people like us, are just born with tragedy in their blood,” Harry whispered as he cupped her cheek, “We either let it make us a victim or we use it make ourselves stronger.”

Lily ran a burning hot finger down his forearm, and Harry didn’t even flinch.

“I’m strong enough already, don’t you think?” She asked, her eyes flashing playfully.

“I can make you better,” Harry said, feeling a tingle of arousal as she ran her hand down his chest.

“What’s the catch?” Lily asked, moving to straddle him, “I have to get a new tattoo and become the Dark Lords bitch?”

Harry smirked and slid his hands under her oversized Ravenclaw Quidditch jumper she was wearing. He ran them up her sides, his touch rough against her skin, “You don’t have to be anyone’s bitch, and you don’t have to join us. I only want willing followers.”

Lily’s hand had stopped burning, but it was still resting on Harry’s chest.

“I want you to join us because _you_ want to,” Harry said, his eyes locking onto hers, “And I think you do. I think you like how much power you can have over someone with your intelligence and wit, just like you like the power you have over me right now.”

Lily shifted against him, smirking when she felt how aroused he was.

Harry pulled her jumper over her head and looked at her body. She was covered in scars, but she didn’t shrink back in shame when Harry looked at them. He ran his hand down a long, thin one flanking her side and spoke softly, but Lily hung onto his every word, “I think you want to kill Muggle scum like the men who did this to you,” he thumbed a small, circular burn, “And like the woman who did this, your own mother.”

Lily swallowed, and Harry looked her in the eye, “I think you want to find out who your father was, and why he abandoned you. I think there’s a small part of you that wishes he was a wizard, but you push that part down because you don’t want to hope to be something more than you are right now.”

Lily’s hand burned once more, and she pressed it against Harry’s chest, he hissed but shifted against her at the same time. With a smirk, he said, “That’s not going to work on me, sweetheart.”

“Of course you would enjoy the pain,” Lily said. With a flick of her wrist, his shirt fell off his shoulders, and she surveyed his torso, “I’m not the only one with battle scars after all, am I?”

She ran her finger down his chest, towards his navel, leaving a faint pink line as she did so. Harry bit back a groan of arousal, but she could see what she was doing to him anyway, it was written all over her face.

“You were a hat stall,” Harry said, closing his eyes and revelling in the sensation – he was reminded of that unique evening in the woods with Reyna.

“The hat couldn’t decide if you should go into Ravenclaw or Slytherin, you were smart, even back then, smart enough to channel your accidental magic before you even knew what you were. But you were malicious too, and ambitious. You wanted to better yourself, to show the filth who raised you why you were better than them,” he opened his eyes and looked into hers, “Because you are. You are so much better than them, you are strong, you are magically powerfully, wickedly smart and so,” she slipped her hand under the waistband of his trousers and his breath caught, “- hot,” he finished, grabbing her by the hips and kissing her.

Like on the Hogwarts Express, they kissed hard. It wasn’t a romantic encounter; it was full of lust and need, it was feral and raw – the fulfilment of a basic human need to be wanted and needed and loved in some way, in any way.

Harry took control, vanishing his trousers with wandless magic, murmuring the spell against her lips while she caught her breath. She rubbed herself against him through her cotton pants, and Harry kissed her impatiently, reaching into the gap between them to slip those irritating pants to one side and slide a finger into her. There was no denying that she wanted this as much as he did, her juices coated his finger, and she let out a small, choked gasp when he curled his fingers inside of her.

Harry chuckled against her neck and took them out, gripping the base of his cock and positioning it against her. Lily took control by pressing herself down onto him before he could move, her tight walls gripping and pulsing against his cock. Harry groaned and grabbed her hips harder as he thrust into her as hard as he could, filling her and causing a cry of pleasure to leave her lips.

Not happy at Harry having got one over on her, Lily did her little trick again and made the hand on his shoulder burn red-hot. Harry cried out, not even sure himself if it was in pleasure or pain, and grabbed Lily’s arse, “You’ll regret that,” he whispered into her ear, and before she had a chance to ask how Harry showed her. He lifted her slightly, pressed her back against the cold stone wall, slamming into her as hard and as fast as he could – she was petite too, so he could lift her easily.

Harry’s only complaint was that it didn’t last as long as he would have liked it too. He could have strung it out, kept her on edge for a little longer, but it turned out that Lily wanted to be used as much as Harry liked using her so when the walls of her pussy tightened, and she cried out loudly in pleasure, Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long after her. While she came, the magic she struggled to keep contained spilt out and that was it, the hot touch against Harry’s skin made him come with her, resting his head against her shoulder as he tried to control his breathing.

“I’ve known you for two days,” Lily said in disbelief, more at herself than at him, “Two fucking days and that…” she shook her head as she disentangled herself from him and grabbed a robe from the bathroom door.

“What can I say? It’s my boyish charm,” Harry teased as she threw a robe at him.

Lily sat down opposite him, in the seat by the fire.

Harry put the robe on and watched as the cogs whirred in her brain. She was obviously thinking something through, and he didn’t want to disturb her thought process.

“I’m in,” Lily said, “And not because of the mind-blowing sex. I don’t do that often, by the way, I know you probably think I’m some sort of whore-”

“I don’t, trust me,” Harry said, a small smile on his face, “I lost my virginity to a girl whose been sleeping her way through the Death Eaters her father’s age so whatever you’ve done before tonight, it has nothing on her.”

Lily shot him an amused look, “I have a guy at home, not a boyfriend or anything. He’s older, he’s a drug dealer, and no, I don’t do drugs but when you grow up the way I did…it’s nice to have a powerful ally by your side.”

Harry nodded, “If you do join us, you’d be marked at the same time as Reyna – you two would be friends, she has Daddy issues too.”

Lily chuckled, “So you’re into girls who have Daddy issues?”

“Actually, I think I’m just into Ravenclaws and Ravenclaw-esque Slytherins,” Harry said with an amused grin, “But do me a favour. Don’t say you’ll join us for the wrong reasons or because you feel like you have to. I won’t hurt you if you don’t want to join us, I would just nod and say goodnight.”

“And let me go? Without a fight?” Lily asked.

Harry nodded, and Lily frowned, “What kind of a bad guy are you?”

Harry smiled, “Not the bad kind.”

Lily gave him a sceptical look, “How can a bad guy not be the bad kind?”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not the bad guy here,” Harry said, eyeing her carefully, “Ever think of that?”

Lily frowned and leant forward in her chair, “That would make the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry the bad guys, and the Death Eaters the good guys.”

With a smirk, Harry nodded, “Exactly. You’re getting the picture now.”

“Explain,” Lily demanded.

“The Ministry, and by association the Order, want to keep the wizarding world from the Muggles for they say, our protection,” Harry elaborated, “That has led to fear-mongering amongst the pureblood families. As a result, purebloods have married their cousins for centuries, and the old families are dying out because of centuries of inbreeding. Magic is nowhere near as powerful as it used to be because, in hiding, we have forgotten who we are.”

Lily was still hanging onto his every word.

“What the Dark Lord wants, is a better world,” Harry said, “A world where people like you and I are ripped away from the Muggles who abused us and raised as the ward of a wizard. If Muggle-borns marry purebloods and have as many children as they can, we would not only be repopulating our community; we would also be breeding out the Muggle blood. If we take Muggle-borns away from the filth from where they come and educate them, they will grow up knowing the importance of magic; they will know to sacrifice, to give back to the earth as thanks for the magic it grants us. We will all be more powerful, and we will wrestle back control from the Muggles because this is our country, Lily. We were here before them, and they…they are nothing more than a by-product, an entire race born from squibs mating with each other, which spreads like a disease while we struggle to thrive. The Dark Lord wants to reset the balance of nature and I, for one, want that too.”

“So do I,” Lily promised, her eyes burning into his, “I want in, I want to be marked.”

Harry smiled broadly, “And you will be. You represent the new order, being both a woman and a muggle-born. But you will have to expect some hatred from the purebloods, those staunchly of the old order.”

Lily shrugged, “I’ve had hatred all my life. My own family has hated me. I’ll have you as my ally, and that’s enough.”

Harry crossed the room and held out his hand to her, “Then welcome on board, Lillian Moon.”

Lily smirked in response and shook his hand.

*** TBC ***


	19. You've Got Something I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Lord gives Harry a task, which he needs Theo’s help to complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Something I Need by Ben Haenow (which is a great song, and a very Harry/Theo song, I feel. Give it a listen if you feel like it 😊 !)
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> Explicit F/M smut scene between Harry x Lily

_Knock. Knock._

Harry glanced at the time and called, “Come in!”

The door to his dorm room opened, and Theo stepped in, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Harry said, pulling on his shirt with a grin, “What brings you to my humble domain?”

“A question about-” he cut himself off when he saw the state of Harry’s chest, “What happened to your shoulder?”

Harry glanced at the handprint and laughed, “A feisty little Ravenclaw, I was doing a bit of late-night recruiting.”

Theo raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that what you called it?”

Harry chuckled, “She didn’t need much convincing, mind you. Anyway, you had a question?”

“Yeah,” Theo said distractedly, his eyes on Harry’s marked chest.

“Like what you see, Nott?” Harry teased as he began to button his shirt.

Theo looked up and saw the amused smirk on Harry’s face, “I think you have a pain fetish.”

Harry snorted in amusement, “Do you know what? I think you might be onto something with that. But I doubt that was your question?”

“No,” Theo admitted, “I wanted to ask you if you could teach me how to cast a Patronus Charm.”

“If you have a happy memory to work with then, of course, I can,” Harry said, grabbing his green and silver tie and putting it around his neck.

“I think I do,” Theo said, “I mean, I’ve not had the happiest childhood, that much is true. It’s just been my father and me, pretty much my whole life but that’s not to say it was unhappy.”

“The memory has to be pure,” Harry said, “Not tainted by anything, a moment of genuine happiness.”

“Is yours really to do with the Malfoys?” Theo asked curiously.

“Kind of, it’s more to do with Draco’s mother, but I wasn’t going to say that in class,” Harry said with an amused smile, “She was my first contact with this world, and since then, all she has done is look out for me.”

Theo leant against the closed door and said, “Mine is of my mother; it’s my last memory of her. I was only two when she died, and sometimes I don’t even know if it’s a dream or a memory.”

Harry smiled slightly, “Is it happy?”

Theo smiled too, his mind far away, “The happiest I can ever remember being.”

“Then it should work,” Harry said, feeling a sense of déjà vu, “And I need your help with something too, so let’s make it a mutually beneficial deal?”

Theo looked at Harry’s outstretched hand and shook it, “Deal. What do you need my help with?”

Harry took a few steps closer to Theo and stopped an inch away from him, he put his hand on the door handle – the door that Theo was leaning against, and he looked into the other boys curious, brown eyes.

“I need your sharp mind,” Harry said.

Theo swallowed, “For?”

“A task that the Dark Lord has given me,” Harry answered, “When he calls me, I am to bring the most intelligent Death Eater I know, which is you.”

“You want me?” Theo asked, and Harry sensed the double meaning, “Not Draco?”

Harry laughed and bit back a smirk when he noticed Theo try to suppress a shiver.

“Why would I want Draco?” Harry asked, a double meaning in his own words, “I want someone who knows their own mind and who isn’t afraid to speak up when they need to. I think that’s you, not Draco.”

Theo swallowed again, “Why do I get the impression that we aren’t just talking about who you need for the Dark Lords task?”

Harry smirked and stepped forward, closing the gap between them entirely, “Because you’re as perceptive as you are smart,” he pulled the door handle down and forced Theo to duck out of the way so that he could pull the door open. He hissed to Artemis to stay in the room, making Theo shiver for a different reason.

In the corridor outside, Draco was waiting.

“Really?” The blonde boy asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry, “How many people are you sleeping with now?”

“Just the one,” Harry said, falling into step with Draco, “And it isn’t your boyfriend, don’t worry.”

“I have never been his or anyone’s boyfriend,” Theo said, opening the door of a dorm room and calling, “Trace, get your lazy arse out here,” he turned back to Harry and Draco, “And frankly, I’m hurt that you would leap to such an inelegant conclusion.”

Harry snorted in amusement, “Yeah Theo, you look heart-broken.”

Tracey stepped out of the girls' dorm, still tying her hair up into a bun, “Whose heart is broken?”

“Theo’s, at being referred to as Draco’s boyfriend,” Harry replied calmly.

As a group, they set off through the common room for the great hall, and Tracey sniggered, “The day Theo dates _anyone_ , I’ll ask Hermione Granger out.”

Draco looked at her distastefully, “I can forgive you being a half-blood and I don’t care that you’re into girls but that statement? Frankly, it should get you kicked out of Slytherin house.”

Harry chuckled, “Ah, she has her appeal, I suppose. I never bought into it myself but hey.”

“Kind of surprising,” Theo pointed out, “Your type seems to be good girl Ravenclaws.”

Harry shot Theo a grin, “Are we talking about the same Reyna Rookwood?”

“Good girl isn’t a term I’d attribute Reyna with,” Draco agreed in amusement.

“Hot, though,” Tracey mused.

“Oh, if you’d only been at Harry’s birthday party,” Draco said, nudging his friend in the ribs.

Harry snorted and kept a comment about what Draco had been doing at his birthday party to himself. Instead, he decided to change the direction of the conversation a little, “Anyway Tracey, fancy joining us?”

Tracey raised an eyebrow, “What do you want with a mediocre half-blood, exactly?”

“Everyone has their strengths, worst case scenario you can bulk up the numbers,” Harry teased.

“Huh,” Tracey mused, “What’s in it for me?”

“We can give you whatever you want,” Harry said with a grin.

“We can’t give her whatever she wants,” Draco muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, you don’t know Tracey, she’s going to come out with the most outlandish thing she can think of,” Theo agreed with an amused smile.

Harry smirked at Tracey, “Name your terms.”

Tracey’s grin was as mischievous as it was genuine, “I want a unicorn.”

Harry shot her a sideways look as they stepped out of the common room, “Be fucking realistic, Tracey.”

Theo shook his head in amusement, clearly seeing where this was going.

“Then I want Hermione Granger,” Tracey deadpanned.

Harry and Draco met each other's eyes, both looking as exasperated as the other. In unison, they asked, “What colour do you want your unicorn to be?”

Tracey laughed and said seriously, “I’m on your side, I’ll stand by you and help you out with anything that you need, but I won’t become a Death Eater, you don’t need me anyway.”

“She’s right, you know?” Draco pointed out, “Her older brothers, Icarus and Daedalus are Death Eaters.”

Harry looked at Tracey in disbelief, “Icarus, Daedalus and _Tracey_? Are you adopted?”

“We have different mothers. Their mother was an Avery, but she died young, just after they were born. Then my father married my mother, who is a muggle-born if you must know. By the way, if you weren’t the Dark Lords secret son, I’d punch you for that,” Tracey pointed out.

“Okay A. He’s not the Dark Lords secret son and B. You could still punch him; he’d probably enjoy it,” Theo said, grinning at Harry and mouthing, ‘pain fetish’.

Harry tried to keep a straight face, “You had better watch your mouth if you want me to teach you how to cast a Patronus, Nott.”

They had just stepped into the hall, which was probably why Theo grinned and replied, “Sorry, sir,” followed by a wink.

Before Harry could retaliate, the other boy headed towards the Slytherin table at a jog.

Draco scoffed, “Why are you letting him get away with that?”

Harry shot Draco a sideways look, “Cause I kinda like him.”

“Yeah,” Draco said, his eyes following Theo, “Everyone does.”

* * *

Harry spent the entire day catching Lily’s eye across various classrooms, despite trying his best not to draw attention to what had happened between them the previous night. Lily seemed to get a great deal of amusement out of this.

He grabbed her in-between Potions and lunch, and pulled her into a secret alcove he had discovered behind a magical two-way mirror. His lips were on hers the moment her back hit the wall.

Lily kissed him back, murmuring against his lips, “I’m surprised you’re still interested, what with you flirting with Theodore Nott.”

Harry smirked, his grip on her wrists tightening, “Jealous, Moon?”

“You wish, Potter,” Lily said, her playful gaze meeting his.

Harry had only pulled her in there to make out with her, and that was her own fault after the looks she had been giving him all morning. But if she carried on like that, he wouldn’t be able to resist taking it further.

He bent his head low and kissed her again, the same way he always seemed to kiss her. It was hard, and it was lustful, it was a battle for control. He would nip her lower lip, and she would open her mouth just enough to give him access then it was a battle of tongues, a clash of teeth. She kissed like she fought, messy and rough. She was a fighter, just like him – they had both had to fight, tooth and nail, their whole lives to get to where they were now.

Harry let out a pained gasp when Lily’s finger trailed down his side, surely leaving a faint burn mark in its wake.

They were as messed up as each other, him and Lillian Moon, which was why she understood him in the way that she did and by Merlin, it made the sex good.

“Stop being such a tease Lillian,” Harry said with a strangled groan.

Lily looked up at him with a smirk, “I have no idea what you could possibly mean Harry.”

She slid her hand down his boxers, “And,” she said softly.

Harry’s eyes fell on her lips, “Uh-huh?”

Lily smirked and grasped his cock, using her unique brand of magic to heat her hand just enough to make it slightly painful, “Don’t call me Lillian,” she said. 

Harry groaned again, “Ok, understood, totally understood.”

The petite Ravenclaw looked rather pleased with herself as she got to her knees, removing Harry’s cock from his trousers as she did so and proceeding to give it one long, slow lick from the base to the tip before enveloping as much of it as she could handle in her hot, wet mouth.

Harry held himself up against the cold stones as he tried not to let on how hot it was to see her on her knees, in a Ravenclaw school uniform. He guessed he did have a bit of a thing about Ravenclaws, come to think about it.

The bell that signalled the start of lunch rang and Harry pulled Lily to her feet, slipping his hands under her skirt, cupping her arse and lifting her against the opposite wall, kissing her hard once more as he did.

“Didn’t think you were getting all the power, did you?” Harry grinned at her as she panted slightly.

Lily was just about to reply with a typically scathing comment when Harry moved her panties to one side and slid a finger into her already wet pussy causing her to moan for the first time and lose her train of thought.

Harry gave her an infuriatingly smug look then removed his finger, slowly replacing it with his cock and filling Lily up. She groaned and gripped his shoulders, throwing her head back to rest it against the cold, stone wall.

Harry wasted no time undoing the first couple of buttons on her shirt, he pulled her bra down roughly then leant down, swirling one of her hard nipples with his tongue then sucking it.

Lily had to bite down on his shoulder to stop herself moaning too loudly. The last thing they wanted was for Filch to find them in here, they were the Head Boy and Girl, after all.

This wasn’t the time or the place for a drawn-out affair, so Harry quickly built up to a fast rhythm pounding into Lily as hard and fast as he could. She seemed to have no complaints and shifted back against him as much as she could given their position in the narrow space.

It didn’t take Lily long to reach a toe-curling orgasm. She would never admit it to Harry, but she was a bit of an exhibitionist. The thought of Filch catching them turned her on as much as it terrified her, typical Ravenclaw, trying so hard to be good against her every instinct.

To avoid crying out through the waves of pleasure, Lily bit down on Harry’s shoulder again, which drove Harry to the edge too.

Lily pulled back slightly and gave him a gentle nudge. Harry took the hint and pulled out of her. She dropped to her knees again and took his cock in her mouth, and Harry had to brace himself against the wall as he unloaded into Lily’s mouth.

A final wave of pleasure coursed through him when he felt her swallow around his cock.

Lily cleared her throat and got to her feet, muttering a general cleaning spell to freshen herself up and ignoring the satisfied look on Harry’s face.

Harry watched her straighten her tie and fix her skirt in amusement. He raised an eyebrow at her, “You done?”

“If you think I’m going to let _anyone_ work out why we’re both late for lunch, you have another thing coming,” Lily said, giving herself a final once over to check that she was suitably put together.

Harry smirked triumphantly.

“And if you so much as think about bragging to all of your new friends about this, I will curse you, I don’t care whose bitch you are,” Lily warned him.

“Whose bitch I am?” Harry asked, a playful grin on his lips, “Hey, I have the Dark Lords respect, and I definitely don’t do _that_ with him, so actually, I think it’s you whose-”

Lily pressed a burning finger against Harry’s chest, “Finish that sentence, I dare you.”

Harry hissed, it felt like a cigarette had just been put out on his skin (and yes, he knew how that felt thanks to Dudley and the foul habit he had picked up in the summer after Harry’s 5th year).

Now it was Lily who was smirking, “Hm, cat got your tongue, Potter?”

Harry leant back against the wall, and Lily blew the smoke away from her finger.

“Fuck me; you are hot.”

With a grin, Lily said, “I know,” then she disappeared through the mirror without another word.

* * *

When Harry sat down at the Slytherin table and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, he was instantly given a scrutinising look by Draco.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“Who have you been sleeping with?” Draco asked.

“The same feisty little Ravenclaw who kept him up last night, I expect,” Theo drawled, giving Harry an amused look.

“A feisty little Ravenclaw who wears red lipstick,” Draco remarked, his eyes on a spot on Harry’s neck.

Harry cleaned it off with a flick of his wrist and put his hand on the top of Theo’s head as his friend turned around to survey the Ravenclaw table for girls wearing red lipstick. He turned Theo’s head back towards their fellow Slytherins and tutted, “Modesty, Theo, modesty.”

“Yes, he has none,” Daphne remarked, her icy gaze on Harry, “It’s nice to see that you finally noticed.”

Harry grabbed himself something to eat with an amused snort, and the others promptly dropped the issue. Lily continued to give Harry amused side-long glances as the day went on, but nobody figured out that she was the feisty little Ravenclaw in question until later that day.

It was at the end of Defensive Magic, when Harry grabbed Theo and murmured, “I think the Dark Lord is going to call me tonight, so stay close, okay? Don’t leave the Slytherin common room after dinner.”

Theo nodded and opened his mouth to try and prod Harry for clues about what the Dark Lord wanted, but he didn’t get a chance. At that point, Lily walked past on her way to the door and pressed her hand against Harry’s shoulder, exactly where the handprint burn was.

Harry flinched at the initial twinge of pain and Lily smirked.

Theo looked at Harry in disbelief.

Harry smirked right back at her, “Who said you could touch, Moon?”

With an amused look, Lily replied, “See you later, Potter.”

She slipped out of the classroom, and Theo looked at Harry, “ _She’s_ the feisty little Ravenclaw?”

Harry grinned, “Yep.”

“Wow,” Theo said, an amused smile on his lips as he shook his head, “It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”

“Apparently so,” Harry said, grinning at Theo.

“And she’s with us?” Theo asked with interest.

“She will be as of the full moon,” Harry replied, “I’ve convinced the Dark Lord to take on some more female followers, and his first two will be her and Reyna.”

Theo snorted, “The girl you shagged up against a tree and the one you’re currently shagging? Isn’t that going to be awkward?”

“I doubt it since Reyna was, and still is, with Fawley,” Harry answered, “I was just a bit of fun to her, and it’s not like Lily is my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” Theo asked.

“I’m pretty sure nobody can misunderstand the sentence ‘that was fun, and we should do it again, but no strings’, don’t you?’”

“Yeah, fair point,” Theo said, they walked into the great hall which was loud and bustling, enabling Theo to lower his voice and say, “Because I know what else happened the night you slept with Reyna, even if Draco was the one who saw you.”

Harry shot Theo a smirk, “Who says Draco was the one I was watching?” he asked.

Before Theo could formulate a reply, Harry dropped down into a seat in-between Tracey and Sophie, “Ladies – how do we feel about starting a feminist Death Eater club? Do you think it’s fair that the Dark Lord mainly recruits males? You could campaign together, Sophie – I think you would make a great treasurer and Tracey, you have a pretty face. I think you would do well in marketing.”

“I think you’re a condescending git,” Tracey said, throwing a sausage at him.

Harry just grinned in response.

* * *

Harry had just stepped out of the shower when a knock sounded on his dorm room door. He couldn’t tell if it had come from the Head Common Room side or the Slytherin Common Room side, but he called, “Come in,” regardless.

“Are you decent?” A familiar voice called.

Harry chuckled to himself, “Not morally, but I’m wearing pants if that’s what you mean?”

The door from the Head Common Room clicked open, and Lily raised an eyebrow, “You were saying?”

Harry grinned, “I have boxers on, the last time I checked we were British and called them pants.”

Lily shook her head and threw a pair of jeans at him, “Well, how about you put these _trousers_ on then?”

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bed, “What’s the point? You’ve seen it all.”

Lily straddled him, for once her hands not burning holes into him while she did so, “This isn’t a relationship thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Harry answered, running his hands under her shirt and up her back, “It’s a ‘you’re hot as hell, and with the things I do for the Dark Lord, I frequently need to let off steam’ thing. I’m sure that suits you more than a relationship anyway because you have an inherent distrust of men, particularly when they are authority figures. Still, you also have major Daddy issues and are attracted to such men. My power and standing with the Dark Lord puts me into that category, making me your type and in true keeping with your type, I’ll happily use you for my own physical needs without burdening you with my feelings.”

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you inside my head?” she asked, pressing her wand against the soft skin at his side.

“No, I don’t need to be, you’re ridiculously easy to read,” Harry replied, a smirk coming to his lips, “What do you plan on doing with that wand?”

“Oh, so many things,” Lily replied softly, “I could force your entrails to expel from your mouth, that could be interesting to watch. I could find out what happens when the force of a bolt of lightning hits you at close range. I wonder, how much you can survive, _boy-who-lived_.”

“Most of what you can throw at me, _little girl,”_ Harry said, smirking and grabbing the back of her neck to pull her into a kiss. He flipped them around and pinned her to the bed, then he murmured, “ _Incarcerous,”_ and magical bonds bound her hands to two of the bedposts.

“You think you can keep me down that easily?” Lily asked, her hands already beginning to burn and turn amber.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Harry said, waggling a finger at her, “No burning hands, it’s too easy for you to have control that way and I’ve let that illusion go on long enough.”

“You can’t stop uncontrollable magic,” Lily said, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

Can’t I?” Harry asked. He had already picked his wand up from the bedside table, and with a twirl, a flick and a complex incantation, two invisible bubbles encircled Lily’s hands.

“What did you just do?” Lily asked, looking up at Harry in disbelief.

Harry, who was now hovering over her, moved his lips down her body, starting at her neck and chuckling as she stiffened up and tried not to show her arousal.

“Magic incapacitation charm,” Harry answered, looking up at her, “Used by Grindelwald to transport his prisoners around safely. I wouldn’t try fighting it; there’s no way you’re using magic until I end the spell.”

Lily looked torn between glaring at him and moaning as Harry’s lips reached her breasts.

“I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry said calmly, doing something with his tongue that made her moan loudly, “Do you really, though?”

* * *

Shortly after curfew that evening, Harry’s left forearm burned. He was sitting next to Theo on one of the sofas with Artemis draped around his neck; Lily having disappeared off to the Head Common Room with a book about dark curses. Harry supposed he should be concerned about that, but for some reason, he wasn’t.

Theo was reading a book too, and his feet were casually resting on Harry’s lap. Draco sat opposite Harry, the two of them locked in an intensive chess battle.

Despite having a high pain threshold, the initial flash of pain made Harry grimace and flinch unsettling the juvenile basilisk, much to her displeasure judging from the disgruntled, “ _Ssssstupid pillow masssster,_ ” comment she garbled at him.

Harry’s hand balled into a fist, and Theo looked up, sensing the movement.

Draco looked up sharply too, wondering why he hadn’t felt the burn.

“Is it time?” Theo asked.

Harry sighed, “Yeah, it’s time.”

_I am in a hurry. Do not be late._

Harry rolled his eyes, “And I get the feeling he’s impatient,” he added, swinging his legs around, “Checkmate, by the way.”

“What?” Draco barked, looking down.

Daphne looked over from her spot next to Draco and smirked, “He’s right; your king has nowhere to go.”

Draco kicked the table irritably, knocking his king over in the process.

Harry held his hand out to Theo and pulled the other boy up from the sofa.

Draco looked between them, “Where are you two going?”

“Hell most likely,” Harry replied calmly.

Theo snorted, “That’s no way to talk about his family home.”

At this, Draco’s eyes widened, “Why has the Dark Lord called you two, but not me?”

“Or me, thank you for entirely forgetting about my existence,” Blaise’s voice said from somewhere.

“Technically he’s only called me, but he asked me to bring someone with me, and I need Theo,” Harry said. He opened the door to his dorm and hissed at Artemis, “ _Stop complaining, go to bed.”_

_“You are not the boss of me,”_ the snake hissed in response.

“I swear sometimes it’s like having a child,” Harry muttered, “See you later, Draco. Come on, Theo.”

Draco raised his hand in a wave, “By the way, I really don’t want to know what you need Theo for but not in my family home, please.”

A chuckle that sounded like it belonged to Daphne sounded behind them, but Harry didn’t have time to stand and chat – he knew what mood Voldemort got in when people were late. 

* * *

“You were almost late.”

Harry could have rolled his eyes, but he didn’t, “I came as quickly as I could, my lord.”

Voldemort looked up, his eyes looking over Theo with interest.

Theo immediately averted his gaze, but Voldemort smiled slightly and reached down to stroke Nagini, “You left Artemis?”

“Yes, no offence but-” he switched to parseltongue, “ _She is not your biggest fan, Nagini.”_

Theo looked up at Harry in surprise; he hadn’t heard him switch to parseltongue that flawlessly before.

Nagini raised her head and hissed, _“She is small and feeble now, but she will be big soon. She will be larger than me. Snakes kill the young of their enemies for this reason.”_

_“Yes, but you are not just a snake – you have a human brain, so you know that Artemis is not a danger to you. She will be left in the Chamber of Secrets once she is fully mature. Besides, I will not let her hurt you.”_

Nagini’s eyes stayed on Harry’s as she hissed, “ _You owe me nothing.”_

_“No, but I owe your master a hell of a lot, and I know how much he cares for you. I will never hurt you, and because Artemis is under my command, she will not either.”_

Voldemort smiled slightly and looked at Theo, “How rude of them, Theodore. You will presume that they were talking about you, but they are merely debating the hierarchy between Nagini and Artemis.”

Theo was slightly surprised to be addressed directly by Voldemort, and that sentence was also one of the strangest he had ever heard so rather than responding with something stupid, he just nodded.

“She’s very petty,” Harry said in English, motioning to Nagini, “She would get on with Draco,” he added, shooting Theo a side-long grin.

Theo bit back an amused smile but said nothing.

“You can talk in the Dark Lords presence, you know,” Harry said, throwing himself into a chair in the small lounge they were currently occupying, “ He doesn’t bite.”

Theo opened his mouth, and Harry added, “Much.”

Voldemort gave Harry a long-suffering look, “If you have nothing valuable to say, Harry, then I suggest that you keep your mouth shut.”

Harry snorted and looked up at Theo.

“Do you speak, Theodore?” Voldemort asked.

Theo gave a small nod and looked directly at Voldemort, “I have nothing of value to say at present, my lord.”

“Well then you are a sensible boy indeed,” Voldemort mused, “Why waste words when you have nothing to say? Perhaps you should spend some more time with Harry and teach him that skill.”

Harry grinned at Voldemort, “Oh, you love our heart to hearts really.”

With an exasperated sigh, Voldemort threw something at Harry. Despite not being ready, Harry caught it with relative ease thanks to his old seeker's instincts.

“What’s this?”

“It is what I require you to find,” Voldemort said.

Harry looked at the small crown in his hands, “Okay?”

“It is Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem,” Voldemort explained, “And it is in a room known as the Room of Hidden Things. To access it you must walk past a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy three times and think ‘I need a place to hide something’. If you do it correctly, a door will appear.”

“Yes, I am aware of it,” Harry said, “Although I know it as the Room of Requirement, not the Room of Hidden Things.”

“I’ve heard of a room in the same area called the Come and Go Room,” Theo chipped in.

“Yes, it goes by many names,” Voldemort said, “But in this case, it must become the Room of Hidden Things. Once you are inside, you will find yourself in a labyrinth of items hidden and lost by students over the centuries of Hogwarts existence. I cannot write down instructions to guide you to the location of the diadem, the nature of the room requires utmost secrecy so I can only pass on the directions orally.”

Theo smiled and looked over at Harry, “I have a photographic memory.”

Harry grinned, “You are wasted in Slytherin.”

Theo smiled slightly, “As I said, I was a hat stall for Ravenclaw.”

Voldemort looked at Harry, “I presume you will zone out while I relay the instructions to Theodore?”

“As I don’t have a good memory, let alone a photographic one, I’m going to say yes,” Harry replied matter of factly.

“Very well, but I shall make this part clear now – when you find the diadem, your role in this task ends, Theodore.”

Theo nodded, “Yes, my lord.”

“And then I bring it back to you?” Harry asked, looking Voldemort in the eye.

“Directly and promptly,” Voldemort finished.

Harry gave him a nod, “Yes, my lord.”

* * *

Harry and Theo didn’t talk again until their feet hit the darkened path in Hogwarts' grounds. They walked towards the castle – lit up like a beacon in the distance.

“So, when are we going to do this?”

“No time like the present,” Harry shrugged.

“You mean, right now?”

Harry looked sideways at him, “That is the definition of the present, Theodore.”

“Don’t call me that,” Theo muttered, “Only the Dark Lord calls me that, and my father if I’ve really fucked up.”

Harry didn’t say anything, and a few minutes later, Theo said, “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but you know how you and the Dark Lord spoke in parseltongue just before we left?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What were you saying?” Theo asked curiously.

“Oh, he was just telling me off,” Harry admitted.

“Seriously? Are you _actually_ his kid?”

“Not exactly,” Harry replied cryptically.

Theo frowned as he processed that information, “What was he telling you off for?”

“Being a show-off,” Harry said, shooting Theo a grin, “He thought I was overly sassy because I was trying to impress you, but I’m pretty sassy at the best of times so I’m surprised he could tell the difference.”

Theo’s frown deepened, “So you _were_ trying to impress me?”

Harry responded with a cheeky grin and jogged ahead, forcing Theo to do the same to keep up with him. His fellow Slytherin rolled his eyes but followed him anyway. They wove through secret passageway after secret passageway until they reached the seventh-floor corridor.

Harry did the ritual – walking by the tapestry three times, thinking about the Room of Hidden things – and sure enough, a door appeared before them.

Theo looked at it warily, which surprised Harry a little.

“You haven’t been here before?”

Theo shook his head.

“Not when the Inquisitorial Squad busted my secret army in fifth year?”

Theo shook his head again, “I wasn’t a part of that, I didn’t see the point. I just kept my head down.”

“Not with Draco last year when he was fixing the vanishing cabinet in there?” Harry asked.

Once more, Theo shook his head, “No, Crabbe and Goyle were the only ones who were in on that.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and pulled the door open, “Were you and Draco ‘involved’ then?”

“Not really, we’ve been friends for years,” Theo said with a shrug, “But this summer something changed, he was stressed out, I guess.”

“He was using you,” Harry said while Theo looked around the room, “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Theo replied, “And I was using him too. He pretended not to notice me stealing paperwork from Malfoy Manor to give to my father. He wanted to know the Malfoys secret to success in politics.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“And I know that Draco just needs me for stress relief, but I don’t care,” Theo said with a shrug, “I’m pretty sure he’s gay and that he’ll only marry for an heir, but a lot of people thought that about Lucius and look at him and Narcissa.”

“Sickeningly in love,” Harry said with a fond smile.

“Either way,” Theo said, “It wasn’t a relationship, it wasn’t loving, we both knew that. But why do you care anyway? We’re all just pawns in your game, aren’t we?”

Harry shrugged, “Not exactly, but I’m a pawn in all of yours, and I’m smart enough to know when I’m being used. Everyone wants something from me – Draco wants to get his family back in the Dark Lords good books, you want to rise in the ranks, and even Lily…she wants protection or status, I guess.”

“So it’s no different to being the golden boy for the light, then?” Theo mused.

“On the contrary, it’s completely different,” Harry said, following Theo’s lead through the piles of clothes, ties, desks and other junk, “When I was the lights golden boy, I had no idea that everyone was using me. They were all playing me for a fool but now? I _know_ that everyone wants something, and I know _what_ everyone wants. I can give the people I like what they want and deny those who I don’t. _I_ have the power now.”

“So where do I fit into this?” Theo asked, pausing at a cross-section, “Am I on the nice list?”

Harry grinned at him, “If you get us to that diadem, then you are at the top of the nice list, Theo.”

Theo chuckled and led the way through an alleyway of bookshelves, filled with lost and hidden books like the Half-Blood Princes. Harry cast his gaze around for the bust that Voldemort had told them to find the diadem on.

He and Theo saw it at the same time, but Harry sensed that something was off faster than Theo did.

“Theo, wait!” Harry began to yell, but before the warning could reach Theo, he had stepped over an invisible curse line.

The cry of pain that filled the air knocked the breath from Harry’s lungs for a moment. Theo fell to the ground, clearly in agony.

Harry scanned the curse line, which was no longer invisible but instead a line of purple fire.

“Harry!” Theo choked out.

Curse-breaking hadn’t been Harry’s expertise, he had listened and taken in what Fawley had said, but he hadn’t found him as good a teacher as the likes of Gus and Antonin. As such, it wasn’t instantly clear what the curse that had hit Theo was.

“Just take a deep breath or something,” Harry said, trying to concentrate through Theo’s yells or pain.

“TAKE A DEEP BREATH?” Theo yelled through the pain. He sucked in a shuddering breath, “It feels like my insides are being RIPPED OUT!”

Those words made it click – an entrail expelling curse, but an incredibly slow-acting and therefore excruciatingly painful one. All the same, knowing what it was made it easier to break.

Harry raised his wand, moved it in a figure of eight and spoke the counter-curse. That temporarily ended Theo’s suffering, but Harry then had to follow it up with a powerful, “ _Finite Incantatem_!” to break the curse-line.

When the purple flames disappeared, Harry knelt and gripped Theo’s arm, “Are you okay?”

Theo looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes, “I think my heart just tried to burst out of my chest so no, I’m not fucking okay.”

Harry cast a diagnostic charm on Theo and grimaced, reaching out to touch his face, “There’s blood coming out of your eyes, so I’m pretty sure you’re bleeding internally.”

“Fantastic,” Theo murmured sarcastically.

Harry pocketed the diadem and helped Theo to his feet, “We’ll get you to Narcissa, and you’ll be fine,” he promised.

“Are you doing that thing where people say ‘you’re going to be fine’ when they actually mean ‘you’re going to die’?”

Harry hooked his arm under Theo to support his weight and answered, “No, Theo. If you were dying, I would tell you that you were dying.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of a psychopath, so that makes sense,” Theo said breathily.

“You might want to save your energy for getting to the hospital wing, not for talking shit,” Harry pointed out.

“Talking makes me feel less like I’m dying,” Theo said, his breath catching again, “Sorry for calling you a psychopath.”

“You should be, I’m far more of a sociopath,” Harry said, pausing at a cross-junction, “Which way?”

“Straight ahead,” Theo gasped, “Fuck, your memory is bad. It’s a good thing you’ve got looks on your side.”

Harry chuckled, “You can chat me up when you aren’t trying your best to bleed out of your every orifice, Theo.”

Theo laughed weakly but fell silent – his breathing was a little shallower than before, which worried Harry. They reached a curve and Theo said, “Round the corner – door, straight ahead.”

Harry helped Theo limp to the door, and the moment they were out of the room, he transfigured a stretcher for Theo and levitated him to the hospital wing in a bid to get him there as fast as possible.

As it was, Theo had passed out by the time they reached Narcissa’s domain.

“Narcissa!” Harry called urgently.

A door opened, and Narcissa rushed out, “Harry! What has happened?”

“A curse,” Harry said, laying the stretcher onto a bed, “He has internal bleeding, I was trying to keep him talking, but he passed out about five minutes ago.”

Narcissa cast a diagnostic charm then pushed Harry to the side so that she could work on saving Theo’s life. Harry could have left, but instead, he sat down against one of the cold, stone walls and screwed his eyes shut tightly.

_Did you know?_

He wasn’t sure if the thought would reach Voldemort through his own disjointed, chaotic thoughts. But maybe Voldemort was expecting it, or perhaps he was already inside his head because his reply came much quicker than Harry had expected.

_Of course, I did._

Harry scoffed, _So it was a test? You put Theo’s life at risk just to make sure I paid attention in summer school?_

_I tested you to see if you could concentrate for long enough, without being distracted by your latest pretty face. It seems that you can._

Harry would have rolled his eyes if they were open. _You don’t know that. Theo’s in bad shape._

_You underestimate Narcissa’s skill as a Healer, Harry and that I actually care about young Theodore's health._

_You underestimate how pissed off I am,_ Harry thought back irritably.

_I should not need to remind you who you are talking to,_ Voldemort’s voice in Harry’s head was cold and shrill. A dull ache began in his scar and Harry groaned, “Oh, no…no, no,” he muttered to himself.

_I should not need to remind you why you are at Hogwarts, Harry,_ the aching pain became a throbbing pain, and Harry screwed his eyes more tightly shut, _You are not there to play with mudbloods or whoever else takes your fancy,_ the first sharp pain shot through his scar and he grimaced.

_You are not there to flirt with the sons of my most loyal Death Eaters_ , white stars popped up in his vision as the pain in his scar worsened even more, he bit back the cry of pain that wanted to escape from his lips because he was determined not to give Voldemort the satisfaction. Still, he could feel the sweat on his brow now, and he knew he would pass out if Voldemort kept this up.

_You are there to recruit followers. You are there to keep the other adolescents under control, and you do not have the right to strut around the school as if you own it. I made you Head Boy and can just as quickly take that privilege from you and give it to someone else who will focus on the tasks that they are given._

As Voldemort’s angry grew, Harry tried to hold onto his consciousness, but with Voldemort’s final, seething thought, Harry’s world went black.

_Remember your place, Harry Potter._

* * *

When Harry woke up, he groaned and slapped his hand against his head as blinding pain coursed through him, “Fuck,” he murmured. Another shot of pain made him whine, pretty pathetically, “Fucking bastard,” he muttered to himself.

A soft snort of amusement sounded nearby, and Harry’s eyes shot open. He instantly regretted that because the light of the hospital wing almost blinded him with pain.

“Isn’t the person who brings the patient into the hospital meant to go home or cry in a waiting room?”

Harry blinked through the pain and turned his head to the side to look at Theo, “You’re alive then.”

Theo looked chipper enough, but it was apparent he wasn’t well from his pale pallor and the dark marks under his eyes, “Thanks to you.”

Harry would have nodded if it weren’t for the fact he knew it would be agonisingly painful, “You’re welcome.”

“So why are you here? Narcissa won’t tell me, she’s very cryptic,” Theo said, giving Harry an easy smile, “She’s protective over you, I can see why she’s your happy memory.”

Harry looked across the room at the blonde woman and smiled slightly, the fondness he felt for her was almost enough to counteract the sharp pain in his forehead.

“Let’s just say I have a killer migraine,” Harry said, his eyes still on Narcissa.

“So you were calling your own head a bastard then?” Theo commented.

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” Harry said, refusing to look at Theo, “I get stress headaches.”

Theo snorted, “Wow, did you think I would fall for that? I thought you wanted me because I was smart?”

Harry turned to the side to look at Theo, “What’s your take then?”

Theo pushed himself up a little in his bed, “Your scar hurts, and it has something to do with the Dark Lord. Draco told me that he could put you in pain worse than the cruciatus curse, you told Draco that he was lucky because he would never have to endure it, implying it is a pain unique to you. The Dark Lord had us retrieve a diadem, a highly powerful magical item hidden behind a curse-line. Items like that are traditionally used as vessels. Then there is the fact you can talk to snakes even though you are a descendant of Gryffindor, not Slytherin. The conversations you and the Dark Lord seem to have without words was how I put it together. When I asked if you were his kid and you said ‘not exactly’, that makes sense now. You’re not his heir. You’re a part of him.”

Harry sighed and got to his feet. He crossed the short space between their beds and sat down on the edge of Theo’s, “Yeah.”

Theo looked him in the eye, “I’m right?”

“You’re right,” Harry said, his eyes on Theo’s as he focused with all his might on locking Voldemort out of his mind, “But you need to stop right now because if you go any deeper down that rabbit hole, it doesn’t matter how smart you are, or how much use you will be to us in the future, you’ll be dead.”

Theo swallowed.

“And it won’t be me who does it,” Harry said, his voice even lower than it had been when he first sat on Theo’s bed.

Theo gave a small nod.

“You know what I am, and that’s fine as long as you know how to keep your mouth shut,” Harry finished, his eyes scanning Theo’s, “Because I actually quite like you, and I don’t want to see your body burning atop a bonfire just because you were too damn smart for your own good.”

“Got it,” Theo said quietly, “Consider it forgotten and don’t worry, I’m good enough with occlumency to divert him if he tries to search my mind.”

“Good,” Harry said, grimacing as he got to his feet. Any form of movement caused pain to radiate through his scar.

Theo reached out and grabbed his wrist, “Harry? Don’t take the diadem to him just yet. Go about your day as normal and do it tonight, give him time to calm down.”

Harry smiled a little, “Theodore Nott – are you concerned for my welfare?” he asked, a hint of a flirt in his tone.

Theo smiled right back at him, “You saved my life, you bastard, I’m allowed to be concerned for your welfare.”

Harry chuckled and backed out of the room, “Told you that you wouldn’t die, didn’t I?”

“Harry Potter, where do you think you are going?” Narcissa’s high, stern voice asked.

“I’m fine, Narcissa,” Harry called before she could stop him, “Just a migraine!”

“That boy,” He heard Narcissa tut as Harry dashed out of the hospital wing, “I have no idea how Poppy endured six years at this school with him to care for.”

* * *

When Harry sat down in Potions, Draco whispered, “You didn’t come back last night, and Theo isn’t in class today.”

“That’s because he’s in the hospital wing,” Harry replied, flipping open his textbook.

“What? Why?” Draco asked sharply, “Is he okay?”

“He nearly bled out through his eyeballs last night but thanks to your mother's fantastic healing skills, he’s fine,” Harry replied.

“What the hell were you two doing?”

“I can’t tell you; the Dark Lord has forbidden us to speak about it. Theo walked over a curse line like an idiot. It’s a good thing I was there really,” Harry whispered, “I’m surprised by your genuine concern though, considering the fact you’re using him and all.”

Draco gave Harry a knowing look, “He knows I’m using him, and he must think I’m an idiot if he doesn’t think I’ve noticed him stealing paperwork from my house.”

Harry smiled in amusement but said nothing.

“Since when do you give a shit about Theo’s welfare, anyway?” Draco asked curiously.

“Since he started giving a shit about mine,” Harry replied.

Draco made a noise of amusement, “You know that he’s only flirting with you because he wants status, right?”

“I know he wants status,” Harry agreed thoughtfully.

“He ought to learn his place,” Draco said in a whisper, “He’s a Nott, throughout history, they have been the Malfoy’s right-hand men.”

“In more ways than one,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Draco shot him a long-suffering look, “The point is that his family will never be anything more than they are right now unless he crawls up your arse to gain political favour.”

Harry shot Draco an amused look, “That’s why you’re pissy? Because you think if I sleep with Theo, I’ll give him all of your family’s power?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Am I wrong?”

“Of course you’re wrong,” Harry retorted calmly, “And arrogance has always been the Malfoys problem, by the way, I reckon it will be the death of you one day.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “And being trusting has always been the Potters downfall. Be careful not to put your faith in the wrong people, Harry.”

Harry smiled slightly, “That didn’t work on me when we were 11, Draco and it won’t work on me now either. I’m an outstanding judge of character.”

Slughorn walked past them, so they fell silent for a few minutes until the coast was clear again.

“I may well grant the Notts a little more power,” Harry continued, “But your family are my family too. I owe your mother everything, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m pretty fond of your father too. You’re like a brother to me, and it doesn’t matter who else I get on our side, or who I grant power to. You won’t lose anything, I promise.”

Draco gave a small nod, “I appreciate that.”

“Good, because I’m not going to stroke your ego every time you get a bit jealous,” Harry said, grimacing and pressing a finger against his scar.

Draco noticed, “Did you get hurt too?”

Harry pressed his entire hand against his scar, “The Dark Lord punished me for stepping out of line, again,” he explained.

Draco pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and murmured a charm then pressed it into Harry’s hand, it felt like a block of ice.

“Cursed scar or not, it will numb the pain,” Draco said.

Harry pressed it against his scar and let out a soft sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

Draco moved a little closer to him and asked in a whisper, “What do you mean, you stepped out of line?”

Harry was a little more open now with the cold compress soothing his aching scar, “The Dark Lord knew that Theo would get cursed, but he didn’t tell us. It was a test; he wanted to test my concentration because he thinks I’m weak; he thinks I get distracted easily.”

“He thought that about me too,” Draco said quietly, “And he was right.”

Harry opened his eyes and removed the ice cloth from his face, “I lost my temper with him, and he reminded me that my place was at his feet, regardless of what I thought.”

Draco caught his eye, “He’s right – it is your place, and mine, all of ours. None of us are equal to him.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Harry said, his eyes glinting with ambition, “But one day, I will be.”

Draco sighed and shook his head, “You’re going to get yourself killed, Harry.”

“Boys,” Slughorn said, his usual jovial air dropped, “Less chatter and more work.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said, turning away from Harry.

“Sorry, Professor Slughorn,” Harry agreed as silence fell between himself and Draco once more.

*** TBC ***


	20. All I Need is a Little Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers an earth-shattering secret and receives his most challenging task yet from the Dark Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Cold by James Blunt.
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> M/M sex scene between Harry & Theo (It’s not that explicit compared to some of the previous sex scenes!)

When Harry walked into the lounge that Voldemort frequented in Malfoy Manor, he did so warily.

“Harry, you have the acquired item, I presume?”

Harry carefully placed the diadem on the table in front of the Dark Lord then asked, “May I sit?”

Voldemort looked up, his eyes focused on Harry’s, “You may. That was incredibly respectful of you.”

“Well,” Harry remarked, sitting down opposite Voldemort, “I did have quite the headache last night, and I’d rather not have another one.”

“Learn your place, and it shall not happen again,” Voldemort said, anger rising in him very quickly.

Harry bit back an irritated comment. It wasn’t worth it when Voldemort was in a bad mood.

“Yes, my lord,” He settled.

“A point had to be made,” Voldemort said quietly, “You were getting complacent and overly confident.”

Harry gave a small nod, “You certainly made your point.”

Voldemort smirked, “You are huffing because I have hurt your feelings? Harry, you are acting like a child.”

Harry wanted to say, _I am a child_ , but that sounded petty even in his head.

Voldemort chuckled lowly, “You are 17 years old. By the time I was that age, I had murdered my Muggle family and created my first Horcrux.”

Harry snorted, “I have also murdered my Muggle family, but Horcruxes don’t have the same meaning for me as they apparently do for you. I did kill a teacher when I was 11, and a Basilisk when I was 12. Do you not think that is enough to prove myself to you?”

Voldemort raised an amused eyebrow, and Harry smiled.

“We’re not as dissimilar as you think that we are, Tom.”

Voldemort shook his head irritably, as he always did when Harry called him Tom, “You have not proven yourself entirely yet. I still feel that you get distracted easily, you like people and want people to love you and care for you. One can understand that need, growing up without love as you did.”

Harry frowned, “I sense a but?”

“It can limit you, and distract you,” Voldemort said, “Which was why I had Severus teach you how to isolate the parts of your mind that give me cause for concern. However, that method does not seem to work on you. I can tell that there are cracks and I can feel all of your pathetic remorse bleeding through them.”

Harry couldn’t argue with him, because he could feel it too.

“It leaves me wondering if you are capable of committing the deed I am about to ask of you,” Voldemort finished, spinning his wand between his fingers, “If you are, I will not question your loyalty again.”

Harry nodded and waited for Voldemort to continue.

“I have recently attained proof that Howard Abbott has been funding the Order of the Phoenix and has granted them two of his properties to use as safe houses. I have, of course, ordered raids upon both of those safe houses and Howard is currently screaming below our feet.”

Harry looked down, “With Ollivander?”

Voldemort smiled slightly, “Garrick Ollivander gave me the information I required and swore his family's loyalty to me. As such, he is a free man once more.”

Harry could tell that Voldemort had answered the question to be polite, but did not want to be prodded any further on the subject, so he fell silent.

“The only loose end is Howard Abbotts heir,” Voldemort continued, “The last of her line, Hannah. I have been told that she is the same age as you and that she is a foolish, meek, Hufflepuff.”

Harry swallowed but nodded, “Yes.”

“You know her?”

“I do,” Harry agreed.

“An example must be made,” Voldemort said quietly, “Is she powerful?”

Harry could have lied to save Hannah’s life, but what was the point? Voldemort was in his head; he would know that it was a lie.

“Not particularly,” Harry answered, “She wants to be a Healer, her specialist subject is Herbology.”

“Is she a fighter?”

“Not a particularly good one,” Harry replied.

Voldemort gave a brisk nod, “Dispose of her then. She is of no further use to us.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, my lord,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.

“And Harry,” Voldemort added.

Harry paused, “Yes?”

“Make it clear that Hannah Abbott's fate will be the fate of anyone else who dares to defy me,” Voldemort finished.

Harry swallowed and cleared his throat, “Yes, my lord.”

* * *

Before he went home, Harry stopped off in Suffolk at the modest estate of Augustus Rookwood. He knew where Gus lived, his mentor had given him the coordinates in case Harry ever needed him, but this was the first time Harry had ventured to Rookwood Hall.

The house was Tudor in style, not as large as the big pureblood manors, but all the more beautiful. The red stone was covered in ivy, the ornate chimneys stretched proudly towards the sky, and the gravel path from the gates to the front door wasn’t lined with a dark maze full of peacocks.

Gus’s wards had let Harry in, so he made his way down the gravel path and knocked on the large, wooden front door. A crack sounded inside the house, and the door opened.

Harry smiled at the elf behind it, “I’m here to speak with the Lord of the Hall, Augustus Rookwood.”

The elf bowed her head, “Master Rookwood be in his study, sir. You must be waitings in the great hall and I wills be fetching his lord.”

“Of course,” Harry said, stepping into the house and following the elf into the great hall. It was relatively small, but ornate and decorated in the Ravenclaw colours typically. Harry smiled slightly and sat down in an armchair next to a burning fire.

He looked into the flames while waiting for Gus; trying to figure out how he felt about killing his fellow school-mate.

“Harry.”

Harry looked up and smiled, “Hey, Gus.”

Gus sat down opposite Harry, surveying him with interest but saying nothing.

Harry leant back in his chair and looked at the family crest above the fireplace. It was stamped with the Rookwood family motto which caught Harry’s attention.

“ _Concilo et Labore,”_ Harry said aloud.

“Hm,” Gus agreed, looking up at the crest, “How good is your Latin?”

“Pretty good after all of your lessons,” Harry admitted, looking over at his mentor, “It means ‘By Wisdom and Effort’, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Gus agreed, “Which sums up my life. Wisdom got me on the road to Azkaban, and it took a hell of a lot of effort to get me out of there.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, “True.”

“I doubt you came here to discuss my family history, mind you,” Gus pointed out.

“But if you’re interested, I can tell you the tale of my ancestor, Ambrose Rookwood, who was supposedly executed for his involvement in the Gunpowder Plot.”

Harry chuckled, “What do you mean ‘supposedly executed’?”

“He used polyjuice potion on a Muggle then imperiused him,” Gus said with a wave of his hand, “They hung, drew and quartered an innocent Muggle and Ambrose fled to France.”

Harry snorted, “So your family have notoriously been sketchy bastards, yet you are traditionally Ravenclaws?”

Gus smirked, “You know as well as I do how similar Ravenclaws and Slytherins are.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, “You’re right, I don’t want to grill you on your family history. I came here because I wanted to ask you about the Ollivander’s. The Dark Lord said he let Garrick Ollivander go because he gave him what he wanted, and he swore his loyalty. But that doesn’t sound right to me, Garrick seemed like the sort of person who would fight.”

Gus chuckled, “He does want people to see him that way, that much is true. But Garrick Ollivander struck a deal with us in the first wizarding war so its not too much of a surprise that he did it again.”

“Garrick made a deal?” Harry asked in surprise, “What made him do that?”

Gus looked over at a portrait of two young girls – both with dark hair and matching smiles. To Harry, who knew Reyna, it was apparent that it was a portrait of herself and her older sister, Naomi.

“His family,” Gus replied quietly, “The same thing that motivates any man with young children, and particularly one with daughters.”

Harry frowned, not sure what the distinction between sons and daughters was.

Gus must have been able to tell what was on his mind, because he continued, “If the opposing side captures a pureblood family’s home, they are given a chance to surrender. If they do, everyone is spared. But if they do not, the men will be slaughtered and the women taken by the opposition, that includes the girls.”

Harry nodded, the realisation set in.

“When we successfully seized Ollivander Castle back in early 1980 it was a big gain,” Gus explained, “We had almost won the war when you stopped the Dark Lord in 1981. Garrick knew that, he knew how things were going to play out if he didn’t surrender.”

Harry found it strange, to hear about the war from other people’s perspectives. It could never be as black and white or as simple as good and evil to him anymore, not now that he knew the truth.

“Garrick was in his 80’s, and his wife had been dead a few years,” Gus told Harry, “He had four children, nine grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. He knew that if he didn’t surrender, we would go after his children and their families, so he made a deal.”

“Protection for his family,” Harry said quietly.

Gus nodded, “And we honoured it, as much as we could. Elsie Ollivander had married into the American pureblooded Cauldwell family, and they had the sense to stay neutral. Eros – Garrick’s heir - he stayed out of things and studied wandlore abroad. Emmeline had married a Corner, so they also stayed neutral but Elena, the middle child, she was the problem.”

“What family did she marry into?” Harry asked curiously.

“The Wood family,” Gus replied, giving Harry a knowing look, “A notoriously headstrong Gryffindor family and they proved to be just that.”

Gus looked into the fire, absentmindedly, “That’s how I ended up in Azkaban…the Wood family massacre.”

Harry frowned, he could hear the regret in the other man's voice, and it made him stop and think for a moment that perhaps regret wasn’t as terrible an emotion as Voldemort wanted him to believe.

“Do you regret it?” Harry asked Gus quietly.

Gus sighed but did not take his eyes away from the fire, “I don’t know if I could say that I regret it, but I remember every second of it.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to say any more on the subject. Gus stoked the fire, got to his feet and poured himself a glass of scotch. He sat back down and looked into the fire once more; then he began to speak.

“They lived in this big country house, it was called ‘The Willows’ because there was this natural archway of weeping willows that led from the gates to the house,” Gus said, his voice was quiet, but Harry didn’t have to strain to hear what he was saying.

“They put up a hell of a fight,” Gus said, “I killed James in a duel, I can even remember how he died. It was a cutting curse, right in the jugular.”

He swallowed and continued, “He was a widower, fighting for his kids. His son, Matthew, was married to Elena Ollivander and because of the deal that Garrick had made, we gave them the opportunity to leave. Matthew refused, and the fight began…”

Gus shook his head, “I remember the look of fear on those little kids faces. They were about the same age that Naomi and Reyna were at the time.”

Harry saw unshed tears in Gus’s eyes, but he stayed quiet.

“Elena Ollivander grabbed them and ran, leaving her husband to his fate,” Gus said quietly, “And he was killed, brutally…by Antonin.”

Gus swallowed, “Johnathon, Matthew’s younger brother – he was killed too, he was a bachelor, so there was no wife or kid to take care of. Then, the other branch of the family – James’s sister, Tallulah, showed up to fight, her and her husband, Amos. They were both killed.”

“Amos?” Harry frowned, “Diggory?”

“Yeah,” Gus said, clearing his throat, “They had a son, he was called Amos too. He struck a deal, swore his loyalty to the Dark Lord to save his wife and his young kid.”

_Cedric,_ Harry thought, a lump rising in his own throat at that memory.

“We thought that was all of them, but then we heard crying,” Gus said, and his tone had changed. That deep, sorrowful remorse was back again, “I told Antonin that I would check it out, so I went upstairs, and I walked into a nursery. A woman was lying in the middle of the floor, dead. Nobody had been up there, but she had killed herself, terrified of what we would do if we captured her.”

Harry frowned, “Why did she think something horrible would happen to her? Who was she?”

“Betsy Wood,” Gus replied, his eyes shifting from the fire to look at Harry, “She was James’s youngest child, and she was a squib so she slit her own throat in front of her baby girl because of what she feared the Death Eaters would do to her. The thing is Harry; she wasn’t wrong. We did unspeakable things, and there’s a damn good reason that people hate us. We didn’t show mercy, not to squibs or muggles; we treated them like dirt.”

Gus shook his head, clearly angry with his former self, “Johanna, my wife, she would ask me if I was having an affair then clarify – ‘the muggle and squib girls, they don’t count’.”

Harry swallowed.

“And now _I_ have teenage daughters,” Gus said, his eyes on the portrait of his daughters once more, “And it makes me physically sick to think about the way I acted back then. That day…that was when I doubted my faith for the first time. I looked at that baby and her dead mother, and I just broke down. The Ministry arrived, the others fled, but I stayed where I was until they arrested me because I didn’t see how it was fair that I got to go home to my daughters after all that I had done. Naomi, she hates me. And Reyna…I have no idea how she feels but regardless, I don’t deserve their love.”

Harry looked up at Gus, “But you’re a different person now.”

“What difference does that make?” Gus asked, “It doesn’t change the past.”

Harry frowned, “So your story about Karkaroff then? About how you killed him for turning you over, is that a lie?”

“No, it’s the truth,” Gus said, his eyes dark, “Karkaroff told the Ministry we’d be attacking the Wood family that night. He brought the Aurors there and while at the time, I accepted my fate, 15 years in Azkaban did a number on me so by the time I got out, I was pissed off.”

Harry nodded; he could understand that, “I’m sorry for asking you about it.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” Gus said, draining what was left of his scotch, “I haven’t talked about that before…and I think I might have needed to.”

“I think I needed to hear it,” Harry confessed, looking into the fire himself, “The Dark Lord just asked me to make an example of Hannah Abbott.”

Gus sighed and nodded, “He’s found evidence that Howard has been funding the Order then.”

Harry just nodded.

Gus got to his feet and poured himself another scotch, but this time he poured one for Harry too.

Harry tried to smile when he accepted the drink, but it came out more like a grimace.

“This isn’t forever, you know?” Gus said softly, “The killings…it’s a means to an end. Once enough neutrals have turned and sworn fealty to us, we will have filled that power vacuum.”

“That might be so, but you know as well as anyone that it doesn’t end when the war ends,” Harry said, looking over at the man he considered as a father figure, “When you survive the war, you have to learn to live with the trauma.”

The look in Gus’s eyes told Harry that he had hit home a little too hard with that comment.

“Yes,” Gus agreed, meeting Harry’s eye, “But you and I both know that you can’t disobey a direct order so regardless of how you feel, you must do it.”

Harry nodded. He finished the scotch that Gus had given him and sighed, “Yeah.”

“Nobody said it was easy, kid,” Gus said, his voice soft as he gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly.

“Yeah, but nobody said it would be this hard either,” Harry returned.

Gus gave him a small, supportive smile, “I’m always here, you know that? You need to talk, get anything off your chest, just ask me and I’ll have your back.”

Harry felt a surge of gratefulness. He pushed himself to his feet and hugged Gus; the older man seemed shocked because he hesitated for a moment before patting Harry on the back.

It felt like hugging Sirius, like having someone who trusted him and liked him for who he was – it felt like someone had his back and wanted to protect him.

Harry pulled back and took a step away from Gus, but then a thought struck him. He turned around as Gus was killing the fire, “Gus?”

“Yeah?” Gus returned.

“What happened to her? That baby who saw her mother get killed?” Harry asked, he didn’t know why he needed to know the answer, but he did. Maybe it was because he couldn’t get the image of a baby girl, crying as she looked upon her mother out of his head. Perhaps it was because of the fact the same thing had happened to him. _He_ had seen his mother die; he had been that baby crying in the cot.

“She got handed over to the Muggle authorities,” Gus replied, “They figured she wouldn’t have any magic, her mother being a squib and all.”

Harry nodded, assuming that was the end of the story. He was just about to turn around when Gus spoke again, “But of course, she turned out to be a witch.”

Harry froze. A witch? Who had been a baby in 1980…it had to be.

“Lily?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Your Ravenclaw friend?” Gus asked with a frown, “I doubt it. Any Wood descendant would surely go into Gryffindor. I asked Johanna what happened after I got out of Azkaban and she said that a dentist and his wife had adopted the girl. When I asked if she was okay, Johanna told me she must be fine because she was at Hogwarts now.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

_Fuck._

_Fuck._

_FUCK!_

* * *

Harry kept his mission and his thoughts to himself for a few days. He went about his business, flirted with Lily, flirted with Theo, and tried to push down his guilt over how he had treated Hermione.

A few days after his chat with Gus, Harry pulled himself out of his funk because he really needed to get on with the mission at hand – Hannah Abbott needed to die, and Harry needed the likes of Theo and Lily’s help with that.

He had been thinking about it all day, so by the time he walked into the Head Common Room, his head was positively reeling. As such, he sighed in relief when he saw Lily sitting in an armchair by the fire with Artemis curled up close to her feet.

He stalked towards her, grabbed her hand and dragged her into his bedroom.

“Uh, Harry. Didn’t we talk about how it's polite to ask for permission before you drag a lady into your bedroom and tie her down?”

Harry gave her an amused look then opened the other door in his bedroom and dragged her into the Slytherin Common Room. That change of tack made her shut her mouth immediately because she wasn’t stupid – she was incredibly smart – she knew this meant he was serious.

Thankfully, the common room was virtually empty. Draco and Theo were sitting by the fire, both with books in their hands, talking in hushed tones until they saw Harry with his tag-along.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Harry, you can’t just bring a Ravenclaw into the Slytherin common room.”

“Uh, I just _did_ ,” Harry, the king of sass, Potter said as he shoved Lily ungraciously onto the sofa next to Theo.

Theo smirked in amusement, and Harry caught his eye. He hadn't seen much of him over the last few days, bar the odd chat while he was dropping homework into the hospital wing for him. Harry hadn't spoken to Narcissa about it, but he assumed the internal damage must have been pretty bad for him to have had to spend a prolonged spell there.

“You’re okay then?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” Theo replied, “Narcissa freed me after dinner.”

Draco rolled his eyes at the exchange, “Explain the presence of a Ravenclaw in the sacred-”

“Oh, get over yourself, Malfoy,” Lily cut him off.

Harry leant against the fireplace and said, “I have news, and an order, from the Dark Lord.”

“What does this have to do with _her_?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“I know she’s your fuck-buddy, but she isn’t one of us,” Theo agreed.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, “Say that again, go on – I dare you.”

Theo pursed his lips, “I…don’t think that I will.”

“Good choice,” Lily said, her eyes darkening, “I _will_ be one of you soon enough. I’ve also already got the blood of two slimy Muggle bastards on my hands, and I can add yours to the mix with no qualms, Nott.”

Harry smiled broadly, “I should have said at the beginning – this is Lillian Moon, the Head Girl, a Muggle-born and an incredibly hot, vindictive, powerful witch.”

“Noted,” Draco said dryly,

“But for the record, that’s the sort of information you should have given me before I insulted her,” Theo pointed out.

Harry smirked at his friend, “Don’t be so quick to insult people then, Theodore. Politeness never hurt anyone.”

“Quit flirting and get to the point,” Lily said, not with envy, but with a hint of irritation.

“Howard Abbott _is_ funding the Order of the Phoenix, as all of us expected,” Harry said, “But the Dark Lord found proof, and as such, he has raided both of the safe houses that Howard granted to the Order. He has also captured Howard and is probably torturing him for information as we speak. The task he gave me was to deal with the loose end.”

“Hannah,” Lily said.

“Who?” Draco asked.

“Hannah Abbott,” Theo explained, “The Hufflepuff girl?”

Draco looked blank, “Which one? There are five and the only one of any interest to me is Bones.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Susan? Into redheads, are you?”

“She’s of interest to me because she’s the last of a family known for producing powerful witches,” Draco said dryly, “Redheads are your thing.”

“No, I’m going through a bit of a brunette phase right now,” Harry teased, sending a suggestive look at the sofa that Lily and Theo were sharing.

“Which one of us is he talking to?” Theo asked.

“Both of us. Harry told me you were the smart one, what does that say for the rest of your housemates?” Lily asked, smiling falsely at him.

Theo grinned over at Draco, “Not much.”

“Would you two quit the bickering? I think you might actually like each other if you can stop insulting her for long enough, _Theodore_ ,” Harry ordered.

Theo gave Harry a completely unapologetic grin in response, and Lily raised a curious eyebrow.

“Hannah is the blonde one whose always tagging around after Susan,” Harry said to Draco, “She’s been in love with Neville since forever, Neville doesn’t notice her because he’s too busy pining after Ginny, only Merlin knows why.”

“I can vaguely place her,” Draco said offhandedly, “Anyway, I presume she must be killed?”

“Not just killed,” Harry said, “Made an example of.”

Theo grimaced, “Killed brutally, with her body placed somewhere public and some sort of message sent out to those who would defy us?”

Harry looked at Theo, “Yes, exactly that. How did you get there so quickly?”

“It was sort of my father’s job, in the first war,” Theo admitted, “He was very inventive when it came to killing. He didn’t believe in aimlessly firing killing curses; he found it boring. You would probably get on quite well with him actually – you being so fond of killing people with karma and all.”

“Killing people with karma? Lily questioned.

“His Aunt and Uncle told him that his parents died in a car crash, so he imperiused his Uncle and put him in a car with his aunt and cousin. Then he had him drive his car off a bridge,” Draco explained.

“And he also killed Pettigrew, the person he blamed for his parent's death, with the killing curse,” Theo added, “The same way his parents were killed.”

“And then there’s Dumbledore,” Draco finished, “Harry led him on and only told him the truth just before he killed him – just like Dumbledore fooled him his entire life.”

Lily smirked at Harry, “That is a good story, sorry I didn’t let you tell it on the Hogwarts Express.”

Harry grinned, “Don’t worry, I preferred what we did instead.”

Draco gave Harry a long-suffering look, “Enough of that – who has to kill the Abbott girl?”

“No one in particular, but whoever does it has to make an example of her,” Harry said, “And it’s a test, the Dark Lord made that quite clear.”

“Why is it a test?” Theo asked, frowning up at Harry, “Do you have a personal attachment to the Abbott girl?”

Harry shook his head, “None other than her link to Neville, I still wish I could get him on our side,” he shrugged, “But this is the first time the Dark Lord has ordered the death of someone…innocent.”

“She’s hardly innocent,” Theo pointed out, “Surely she knew what her father was up to.”

“And she was in your little fight club in fifth year,” Lily added.

Harry looked at her in amusement, “Do you mean the DA?”

“Exactly – fight club,” Lily said with a smirk, “The first rule of fight club? You don’t talk about fight club, or you get pimples all over your face spelling out ‘sneak’ because Hermione Granger isn’t as sweet and innocent as everyone thinks she is.”

Harry felt a pang of regret upon hearing that name – _Hermione Granger, Hermione Wood more like_. If Lily noticed the pained expression on his face, she didn’t say anything. He shook the thought from his head and focused on the present.

“Anyway, that makes it harder. I know how weak she is, I know how easy a fight it will be. It makes it feel all the more like I’m killing an innocent to prove a point.”

“Well…I hate to break it to you, but that’s exactly what you will be doing,” Theo said practically, “But that doesn’t mean you have to make it personal.”

Harry sat down on the edge of the sofa and looked at Theo, “What do you mean?”

“If you feel a fight would be unfair then kill her, but do so indirectly,” Theo explained, “Curse her or something and have it happen somewhere public.”

“Like in the middle of the great hall,” Draco added.

Theo nodded and turned back to Harry, “That way, you don’t have to get your hands too dirty.”

Harry said nothing as he contemplated this, “Hold that thought because it’s a good one. We’ll talk about it soon, and I suspect we will be able to come up with something between us.”

It was clear his train of thought had gone somewhere else. As such, Draco didn’t make a move to follow him when he headed for his dorm room.

Lily did, chiefly because she needed to go through it to get back to her room.

“Harry,” She said, closing the door behind her and crossing the room in the direction of the door back into the Head Common Room, “You need to do something about all of this guilt, it _is_ holding you back. No matter how hard you try to lock it away, it will always come tumbling out at some point. You need to learn to accept it.”

Harry sighed, “I know.”

Lily gave him a rueful smile, “You were a Gryffindor once, so maybe this old saying will make things clearer for you – does the lion apologise to the sheep for being at the top of the food chain?”

Harry didn’t answer, so Lily finished, “No – he accepts his role and has a feast.”

“Thank you for that wonderful bit of insight, Lily,” Harry remarked sarcastically.

Lily took a step closer and kissed Harry, lighter than she had before, “Don’t blame yourself for doing what has to be done,” she murmured against his lips as she unbuttoned his shirt and ran a cool hand against his skin.

Harry let his eyes flutter shut, he leant back, resting his head against the wall.

Lily rested her hand against his heart, palm flat out and without the usual burn, “You know that in your heart, you just need to come to terms with it.”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. They were often playful or teasing but right now, those grey eyes were full of sympathy. Grey-blue eyes that were so familiar, yet Harry just couldn’t place how.

“Lillian,” Harry murmured, kissing her again, this time initiating the kiss and pulling her closer to him. She allowed him to do so, deepening the kiss and kissing him with emotion, with a feeling other than want or lust anyway.

“Why do you call me that?” Lily asked, shedding him of his shirt.

“Because it’s your name?” Harry countered.

“Yes, but you call me Lily unless it’s in the heat of the moment,” Lily pointed out.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “You really think I want to be moaning my mother’s name in the heat of the moment?”

Lily’s eyes flashed with amusement, “Fair point. Well, at least on top of all your other morally deficient traits, you don’t have to deal with an Oedipus complex.”

Harry snorted in amusement, then dropped his hand from Lily’s neck. She could tell that despite the kiss, he wasn’t really in the mood.

“I’m starting to feel a little like Eva Peron,” Lily mused, walking across the room towards the door to the Head Common Room.

“Who?” Harry asked blankly, throwing his discarded shirt into a corner of the room and opening up his chest of drawers for something more comfortable.

“Muggle, she slept her way up until she was with the President of Argentina,” Lily said with a wave of her hand, “I wonder if Pansy embodies her, actually.”

Harry chuckled, “Oh Merlin, I know,” he shook his head, “She’s an idiot, but unfortunately she is an idiot with an influential father who we need to keep sweet. Luckily one of his conditions, when he agreed to join the Dark Lord, was that his daughter remained out of the firing line so you will never have to fight alongside her.”

“One of life's small mercies, I may have found myself accidentally cursing her by accident,” Lily agreed, making Harry smile.

“Speaking of the Dark Lord and his supporters,” Lily mused, “What are you going to do about the Greengrass’s? Flirting with Daphne isn’t going to get her to join up, you know? She’s far too headstrong for that.”

“I know,” Harry agreed, “And I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.”

“That’s a malaphor,” Lily mused, “Do you know that?”

Harry shot her an amused look, “Do you honestly think I have any idea what that is?”

Lily smiled, “It’s a blend of an idiom and a cliche. You combined 'I'll cross that bridge when I get to it' with 'don't burn your bridges'.”

“Well I had no idea it was a malaphor,” Harry admitted, “But I did do it intentionally. It means I haven’t arrived at that life obstacle yet, but I’ll inevitably fuck it up when I do.”

Lily snorted and grabbed the door handle, “Have a little more faith in yourself, Harry. You’re more convincing than I initially gave you credit for.”

Harry smiled slightly and thanked her; then she disappeared into her room for the night.

He tried to distract himself in her absence, but nothing worked, mainly because his attempts to talk to Artemis about his issue never got past the point of her complaining that he was ‘a useless two legs who didn’t feed her enough’.

Harry found that he couldn’t concentrate on a book, and he wasn’t much in the mood for chess. He felt full of restless energy, and as the night wore on, he genuinely wondered about going for a run around the lake to burn it off.

He had gotten to his feet and thrown a checked shirt on with the intention of walking around the castle for a bit, to give his feet something to do and to calm his mind. But just as he was about to leave, a knock sounded on the door.

Harry yanked it open, surprised to see Theo, leaning against the doorframe as if he were afraid to come any further into the room.

“Are you okay? You seemed conflicted earlier.”

“I’m always conflicted,” Harry said irritably, “And Lily is right, I do need to accept my role because I can’t keep locking away my emotions.”

“No, you can’t,” Theo agreed, “What you’re doing, using Occlumency to push feelings away? It’s a temporary fix, Harry and when that wall in your head comes down…”

“I know,” Harry said, turning his back on his friend.

Theo sighed and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, “Look, I know you think Hannah Abbott is innocent, but she isn’t. You keep blaming Dumbledore and the Weasley’s for your shitty life, but the truth is that the entire wizarding world is to blame.”

Harry turned around angrily, “What?” he hissed.

Theo stood his ground, and Harry respected him for that, “It wouldn’t have mattered if Muggles had raised you or if your Godfather had raised you, you were always going to have a shit life-”

Harry crossed the room and gripped Theo’s wrists, pinning him against the wall.

Theo breathed in sharply, but finished, “Because the system is broken – the world is _fucking broken_.”

Harry didn’t release Theo, but he did loosen his grip on the other boy's wrists slightly.

“Dumbledore decided to leave you with those muggles,” Theo said, swallowing and trying to maintain his composure, “But nobody did anything about it, did they? McGonagall knew what they were like, but she didn’t take you away from them. Hagrid didn’t do anything, Remus, the guy who claims to love you like a father, where the fuck was he for 11 years while you were being abused?”

Harry pressed into Theo harder, his elbow constricting the other man's windpipe, “You are getting close to the fucking bone here, Nott.”

“Good,” Theo said breathily, “You said you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid of you, who would challenge you when you needed it and right now you need it.”

Harry narrowed his eyes but allowed Theo to breathe easily once more.

Theo sucked in a grateful breath and looked Harry in the eye, “Nobody at the Ministry came looking for you. All of these people who claimed to love and admire your parents? None of them gave a shit about what happened to tiny little Harry Potter, did they? Once you had ‘defeated’ the Dark Lord, you weren’t any use to them anymore. They went about their lives, they didn’t think about you, and _no one_ came looking for you. That’s on wizarding society, Harry, that’s on people like Howard Abbott who ran the Wizengamot back then. They could have done something about it, but they didn’t.”

Harry swallowed. Theo was right. They didn’t care about what happened to him, just like they didn’t care about what happened to the tiny little Wood baby who had survived the massacre. Like Dumbledore, the Ministry had discarded the pawns once they fulfilled their purpose, or simply because they had no purpose.

“Hannah is a part of that, the next generation as it stands,” Theo finished, “So she’s not innocent, and if you need me by your side to help you get through killing her then I’m here.”

Two minutes ago, Harry had wanted to kill Theo so how on earth had he managed to end that on a caring note? Harry swallowed and licked his lips; he didn’t miss the fact that Theo’s eyes darted downwards when he did it. He knew he wasn’t supposed to associate with other Death Eaters, but Harry was pissed off with Voldemort as it was. He controlled what he did, how he thought, Harry would be damned if he let the Dark Lord control who he let into his life as well.

Harry tightened his grip on Theo’s wrists and pressed himself flush against the slightly taller boy, closing the already tiny gap between them. Letting go of one of Theo’s hands so he could hook it around the back of Theo’s neck, Harry pressed his lips against Theo’s.

Theo brought his free hand up and gripped Harry’s wrist, instinctively returning the kiss as he did so. It was an entirely different feeling – kissing Theo compared to kissing Lily or Reyna. His lips were more demanding, his touch a little rougher, but strangely enough, the most significant difference was how much needier he was. The way he drunk Harry in, like he was savouring every second of the moment, the way he gripped Harry’s wrist tightly, a solid ‘don’t go’ without overstepping. He knew that Harry ultimately called the shots here, and he didn’t fear Harry, but he did know his place.

Harry let go of Theo’s other wrist, bringing his hand to his shoulder-length hair. Theo deepened the kiss the moment Harry tugged on his hair; it was as if he took that as permission. It was full of frustration and need – the need was on Theo’s behalf, and the frustration was on Harry’s – ever since he had submitted to the darkness inside himself, he found that physical contact was the only thing that made him feel like he used to.

Killing didn’t feel wrong anymore. Hurting people felt good when it had once felt bad.

But hands pulling at his shirt, lips on his neck, guttural groans, soft moans and gasps – that all made him feel exactly like it had before he had become this monster.

“Theo,” Harry said breathily, gripping both of the taller boys wrists to stop him before he could push Harry’s shirt off of his back, “Slow down and give a guy a break.”

Theo chuckled and let his head fall back to hit the wall softly, “Sorry – I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

He didn’t try to pry his hands out of his Harry’s, even though he could if he wanted to. Harry was merely holding them there now, not forcibly keeping him pinned to the wall.

“Well, whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often,” Harry murmured, his breath hot against the bare flesh of Theo’s neck.

Theo let out a shallow breath and pried his hands out of Harry’s to push the shirt off his chest. Harry looked up, his eyes flashing, the emerald darkening as the fire on the other side of the room roared.

“Did you do that?” Theo asked, not taking his eyes off of Harry’s.

Harry smirked in response.

Theo knew he had taken a risk, wrestling for control for even just a brief moment, but he was a good judge of character, and he had a pretty good idea of how Harry would react.

“You might regret that,” Harry said, his voice barely a whisper.

Theo smirked back at him, “You only live once.”

Harry pulled Theo towards him with a groan, crashing his lips against his as he did so.

* * *

Voldemort cursed under his breath and threw the glass in his hand at the opposite wall, “Foolish boy!”

“Am I interrupting, my lord?”

Voldemort looked up at the open doorway and sighed, “No, Narcissa. I called you here, please, come in.”

Narcissa stepped into the lounge – it felt strange to be invited into a room in her own home, but she did not question the order nonetheless.

“Do you believe that Harry Potter has the mental fortitude required to be an asset as a Death Eater, Narcissa?” Voldemort asked, his long fingers pressing against his temple as he blocked his mind from Harry to avoid seeing flashes of his activities with Theodore Nott.

Narcissa paused and pursed her lips. She thought about the question for a long moment before eventually giving the Dark Lord an answer, “I believe he is impulsive at times, but incredibly powerful and intelligent. I believe, in due course, he will be as valuable to you as the likes of Augustus and the Lestrange brothers.”

Voldemort looked at Narcissa, “He is emotional. He relies on the love and care of others too much.”

“He is still a boy,” Narcissa pointed out, “In time, he will realise that more often than not, caring for someone gets them hurt.”

“One can only hope,” Voldemort agreed.

“Did you summon me to question me about the boy, my lord?” Narcissa asked, keeping her gaze down.

“No,” Voldemort answered, taking her by surprise, “I summoned you to discuss your sister's situation.”

Narcissa looked up sharply, “My lord-”

“There is no use in lying to me, Narcissa,” Voldemort said curtly, “Bellatrix came clean to me earlier this evening. As it currently stands, yourself and your husband are the only others who are aware, yes?”

“Yes, my lord,” Narcissa answered.

“You did not share the news with Draco?”

Narcissa shook her head, “No, my lord.”

Voldemort leant back in his chair, “You assessed her?”

Narcissa gave a small nod, “Yes, my lord. All is well with both Bellatrix and the child-”

“I do not care about the child that she tricked me into conceiving, Narcissa!” Voldemort hissed, rising to his feet, “She was well aware of my stance on that matter. Have I not made it abundantly clear to her several times?”

“Yes, my lord,” Narcissa said quickly, casting her gaze down once more.

Voldemort spoke softly, and Narcissa had to strain her ears to hear him, but she didn’t dare move any closer to the Dark Lord.

“You know that I would not willingly give her a child, Narcissa, and it takes every ounce of compassion that I have left not to kill her for what she has done,” Voldemort whispered menacingly.

“I know what happens to a child conceived under the influence of a love potion. I know the kind of life such a child is forced to lead.”

Narcissa swallowed, she knew what was coming next.

“Your sister has been a loyal follower to me for many years Narcissa. As such, I will let her live and in time, I may even forgive her,” Voldemort said, taking a step closer to Narcissa, “But if that child is born, your sister will suffer the same fate as any other traitor.”

Narcissa said nothing.

“Do you understand what I am telling you, Narcissa?”

Narcissa held her head high and maintained her composure. She turned away from the fireplace to look at the Dark Lord, “Yes, my lord.”

With a curt nod, Voldemort dismissed her. The moment she left, he sank into the armchair by the fire that he frequently used – ever since he had been brought back in this not entirely human body, he had been unable to retain any warmth.

He sighed as Harry’s emotions flooded him – the boy was content, _he_ was warm, he was tired, the warm body of a lover pressed against his own and in truth, that was something that Voldemort longed for too, but not with Bellatrix, not anymore, not after her betrayal.

It made him bitter, and it made him envious. Voldemort could feel Harry drifting off to sleep, he could feel his comfort, and with a wicked smirk, he decided to do his best to destroy that.

* * *

Harry enjoyed the comfort of having a warm body next to him that night. Theo fell asleep, and his steady breathing almost lulled Harry into slumber too. A few times, his eyes drifted shut when he focused on Theo’s breathing. But every time he was on the verge of sleep, he was jerked awake by Voldemort’s voice hissing as if he were right next to him.

_You are weak._

He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him or if Voldemort was twisting his thoughts to punish him for getting involved with Theo, against his orders.

“Sleep, Harry,” Theo murmured, sometime after midnight.

Harry hadn’t realised that Theo was awake. He opened his eyes and glanced at the boy whose head lay on his chest, “I don’t need to. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I’ve been drifting,” He admitted.

Harry almost said, “Me too,” he nearly spilled his thoughts out to Theo, but then he decided better of it and kept his mouth shut.

“I know it didn’t mean anything, you know?” Theo said, stretching out and looking up at the top of the four-poster bed, “I mean, it was good and all, but don’t worry, I don’t expect anything of you.”

Harry rolled onto his side to look at Theo, “You ought to be honoured. I’ve never even kissed a guy before tonight.”

Theo shot him an amused look, “Neither have I.”

Harry’s surprise must have been visible on his face, because Theo laughed, “Draco doesn’t do kissing. Draco is the sort of pureblood who knows he has to marry well and produce an heir one day, so he saves himself for marriage – he’ll only kiss the girl who will become his wife, and he won’t sleep with anyone until then either, that’s sacred.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Theo, “But you sucking his dick in the woods doesn’t count?”

“Exactly,” Theo said, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at Harry properly, “I’m more an all or nothing kind of guy. Yeah, I’ll get married one day to keep the Nott family name going but until then? If I want something, I’m all in, and I don’t just dip my toes in the water like Draco does.”

That hit home hard; Harry could definitely relate to that.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his eyes on Theo’s lips, “I don’t do things by half, either. If I’m going to bend the rules, then I might as well break them too.”

Theo grinned and closed the gap, pressing a soft kiss against Harry’s lips. Harry responded by gripping the bare skin at Theo’s hip and pulling him closer, feeling the comforting warmth of the other boy's body against his own.

“I could take this all the way easily,” Harry murmured against Theo’s lips, pressing himself against Theo.

Theo laughed and kissed Harry harder, reaching down to grab his hard cock. He gave him a stroke, eliciting a needy groan from Harry.

“Well then,” Theo murmured, biting Harry’s lower lip gently before releasing it, “What are you waiting for?”

That was all the confirmation Harry needed, with a needy noise that he had no control over, he rolled on top of the other boy – they both let out breathy moans as their hard cocks rubbed together. Harry knew, even though he had no idea what he was doing, that he was going to have to take control.

It was messy; neither of them had done this before; neither of them really knew what to do. They had to laugh when they fucked up. Otherwise, it would have been unbearably awkward, but a few kisses choked with laughter covered up the awkward moments, and that was all forgotten about when they finally managed to get it right.

The air was filled with noises of want, with guttural groans, cries of pleasure and rapid, shallow breathing. Sweat dripped from Harry’s forehead as he thrust into the slim boy beneath him – he ran his hand up Theo’s arm until he found his hand, gripping the sheets on the grand four-poster bed tightly. Harry kissed Theo’s shoulder, making him relax enough to open up his hand – intertwining his fingers with Harry’s. Harry let out a shuddering breath of relief as he came.

Theo made an undignified noise, and Harry chuckled, “You okay?”

“I’m great,” Theo replied breathily, his voice muffled by the pillows.

Harry fell ungraciously into a heap at his side and let out a breath, “That was fucking amazing.”

Theo shuffled, and Harry paused when he felt a hand against his own – he was wary of what Voldemort had told him – not to get too attached, but he was in a little too deep for that now anyway so he closed his fingers around Theo’s and smiled in the dark at the content sigh that followed.

“Are you going to sleep now?”

Harry contemplated the question for a moment. Physically, he was tired, but he doubted that it would be enough.

“I don’t sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented,” he answered.

“You’re afraid of your dreams?” Theo asked through the darkness.

Harry could have lied, but he suspected that Theo knew the answer anyway. He swallowed and shut his eyes – images of Voldemort torturing Theo instantly swam before him – he opened them again as quickly as he had closed them.

“Yes. Wouldn’t you be if you had done what I have?”

Theo didn’t say anything at first, and for a while, Harry thought he wasn’t going to. Then, after a few minutes of silence, Theo said, “I’ve done exactly what you have done. If you’re a sinner, then we’re sinners together.”

Harry grinned into the darkness, “I’m only going to be cementing my theory that all Death Eaters have Daddy issues if I whisper, _forgive me father, for I have sinned,_ aren’t I?”

The question made Theo laugh out loud, and his laughter was infectious. In that brief moment of happiness, Harry managed to find the strength to close his mind to Voldemort so that he could finally get some much-needed rest.

*** TBC ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!!!
> 
> As hinted to by her not-what-it-seems parentage, Hermione is defo going to come into this story with a bigger role soon-ish.


	21. I Am the Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Harry starts to feel content, the shit hits the fan…again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> Past rape/sexual abuse, past child abuse, past child neglect, forced drug overdose.

When Harry woke up the morning after his tryst with Theo, he felt more content than he had done in a long time. The few hours of sleep that he had gotten the previous night had been more than he’d had in weeks and he felt amazingly refreshed for it.

At first, Harry wasn’t sure what had woken him. There were no windows in his dorm room now that he resided in the Slytherin domain – underneath the lake – so it hadn’t been sunlight. The warm body against his wasn’t shuffling, so that wasn’t the source of his abrupt awakening either.

Harry blinked sleep from his eyes just as one of the doors into his bedroom opened, “Are you going to drag your lazy arse out of-”

Lily stopped when she saw the scene before her. Harry wondered if she might be jealous, but he quickly realised how stupid a thought that had been – this was Lily Moon who had only ever been used by men and therefore expected nothing less from them.

“Well, that’s entirely unexpected,” She said, throwing herself onto the edge of the bed with a pair of heels in her hand, “Although it’s a little unfair, _I_ didn’t get cuddles.”

“You didn’t ask,” Harry said with a grin, grabbing her and pulling her to his side to hold her tightly.

Lily made an indignant noise, and Theo grumbled then shuffled against Harry, muttering something incoherent.

“Evidently he’s not a morning person,” Lily said, eyeing Harry with amusement.

Harry grinned and kissed her, “Good morning.”

Lily made a face, “Your breath stinks, and I don’t think I want to know where that mouth has been since you last brushed your teeth.”

Harry considered that for a moment, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She wriggled out of his grasp, then sat on the edge of the bed to clasp one of her shoes on.

“Did you speak to the Dark Lord about me last night?”

“No, I did that a few days ago,” Harry replied, looking down at his watch, “Are you avoiding the elephant in the room, or are you okay with it?”

“I don’t mind,” Lily said, clasping her other shoe on, “But if you insist on sleeping with both of us, just make sure you use the right protective charms. I don’t want to catch any diseases from him.”

“Rude,” Theo muttered sleepily.

Harry chuckled, “We did last night. Don’t worry; I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Lily said, shooting Harry a smile, “What did the Dark Lord say, about me?”

“That he was content for you to join us,” Harry answered, “It will happen tomorrow, I promise.”

“And is it just me?”

“No, you and Reyna Rookwood,” Harry said, he nudged Theo to try and motivate him to wake up properly, “She and I have a bit of a history by the way.”

“Oh, is she the Ravenclaw who came before me?”

“She’s the older woman who corrupted him,” Theo mumbled sleepily.

Harry snorted, “You make it sound like I was an unwilling victim, Theo.”

Theo cracked open one eye, “ _She_ dragged _you_ off into the woods, Harry.”

“And then _I_ defiled _her_ ,” Harry said against the shell of Theo’s ear. The other boy shivered, and Harry chuckled, glancing back to Lily, “But her father told me in no uncertain terms that he would kill me if I went there again, so I didn’t.”

“And then little old me came along,” Lily said, turning around and kneeling above him, “But who corrupted who between us?”

Harry smirked, “I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you.”

“ _Scourgify,”_ Lily muttered, making Harry cough distastefully.

“This better be worth it,” He muttered as he claimed her lips.

Lily chuckled against him and kissed him harder than she had before, pressing herself against him as she did so. There was something about her in her school uniform; there was something about the Ravenclaw uniform in particular.

Lily broke the kiss, too soon for Harry’s liking. She pushed herself to her feet, smirking in amusement at Theo, “Now you’re awake?”

“Wasn’t going to sleep through the show, Moon,” Theo teased.

Lily chuckled and glanced back at Harry, “Anyway as I was saying, there was Reyna then me, and now you’re into boys?”

Harry grinned, “I’m into you both, at the same time if you want.”

“I don’t do threesomes,” Lily said, kissing Harry a final time before walking towards the mirror, “I don’t like to share. My school report always did say that Lillian didn’t play well with others.”

Theo chuckled under his breath, and Lily fixed her hair in the mirror. She glanced back at him with a smirk, “And you two are going to be late for class, by the way.”

“You’ve never sounded more like Granger,” Theo muttered.

“Call me that again, and I’ll hex you so Harry can’t find it the next time you want some,” Lily said, overly cheerfully and with a playful wink.

She left, and as the door swung shut behind her, Theo remarked, “Pity she doesn’t do threesomes, she’s hot.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry said as he pushed himself out of bed, “She keeps a switchblade in her underwear drawer. I’m both terrified and more worryingly, slightly turned on by it.”

“You would be,” Theo joked as threw the covers back and dragged himself out of bed.

* * *

Draco noticed the shift between Harry and Theo when they walked into Offensive Magic together, almost late. He didn’t mention it straight away, but at lunchtime when he sat down next to Harry, Draco brought it up.

“Theo didn’t come to the dorm room last night.”

“Hmm,” Harry agreed as he grabbed an apple, “No, he was a bit busy elsewhere.”

Draco lowered his voice, “Remember what the Dark Lord said to you after he found out about you and Reyna.”

“I remember,” Harry said, taking a bite out of his apple.

Draco gave him a long, hard look, “Death Eaters and their children are off-limits, that is what he told you. Do you think he didn’t mean that?”

“No, I know that he meant it,” Harry said, not bothering about the other Slytherins who he knew were listening in, “But even I have limits. He is my master, and I will carry out every task he gives me, whether I agree with it or not. When it comes to _my_ life, though? I won’t let him dictate who I get close to, because that was what Dumbledore did to me and I won’t be controlled that way anymore. I’ll sleep with whoever the hell I want to and if the Dark Lord has a problem with that, he can kill me.”

Draco swallowed and shook his head, “You’re playing with fire, and you’re being an idiot. You know that, right?”

Harry got to his feet and shot Theo an amused look, “Well, you only live once, right?”

Theo chuckled and glanced down, but said nothing as Harry strode from the hall.

Daphne had watched the interaction with interest. She looked from Harry’s retreating back to Theo, who seemed vaguely amused, and Draco, who just looked worried. One thing was certain – after a short time of being a Slytherin, Harry Potter was well and truly making waves. She glanced at the Ravenclaw table and caught the eye of Lillian Moon, who had also been watching the scene but with amusement rather than curiosity.

The two girls maintained eye contact for a moment before Lily looked away, leaving Daphne more curious than ever about Harry and his intentions.

* * *

In Herbology, later that afternoon, Theo brushed past Harry and pressed something against his hand. Harry instinctively closed his hand around the object and looked into Theo’s dark eyes.

“Moly,” Theo murmured, “It counteracts enchantments when eaten. It might help you keep him out.”

Harry knew what Theo meant, so he gave the dark-haired boy an appreciative nod and looked back down at his textbook.

“What was that about?” Draco whispered.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Harry replied, maybe a little too abruptly or harshly. But it was bad enough that Theo had worked out what he was, Harry couldn’t have Draco looking too far into it again – he had already heard enough the night that Harry confronted Dumbledore atop the Astronomy Tower.

Draco was itching to find out more, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut.

“Full moon tomorrow,” Harry whispered, looking at the ghostly moon as it shone through the clouds in the late afternoon sky.

“Have you managed to recruit anyone apart from Moon?” Draco asked in an undertone.

“No, it will just be her and Reyna,” Harry said, glancing across the greenhouse at Lily, “But we _have_ only been back for a few weeks, Draco – all in good time.”

Draco ignored the cryptic comment; he had learned that there was no point in asking Harry to elaborate because he rarely ever did.

* * *

In the Slytherin common room after dinner that night, Harry voiced a question intended for Theo.

“What do you know about the Wood family massacre?”

Theo looked up from his book to frown at Harry, “Nothing because nobody who was there has ever talked about it.”

“Nobody?” Harry asked in surprise.

Theo shook his head, “No. There were six Death Eaters there – the Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix, Dolohov, Yaxley and Rookwood and as far as I know, none of them has spoken about it since.”

Harry tapped his book thoughtfully, “Betsy Wood was killed that night, wasn’t she?”

“The squib girl? Yeah, the whole family was pretty much wiped out,” Theo said, looking back down at his book, “Apart from Emmeline and her two kids because they fled.”

“That’s Oliver's mother?”

Theo nodded, “Yeah, she ran off with the kids and abandoned her husband.”

Harry frowned at his friend, “So who was Betsy married to?”

Theo looked up and gave him a strange look, “Nobody, she was a squib.”

“And she had no kids then?”

“No, why are you asking about this?” Theo asked, frowning at Harry.

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know, just something I heard. It’s probably nothing.”

He was surprised that Theo accepted his terrible, evasive excuse, but all the same, Harry was pleased that Theo wasn’t questioning him too much. Harry looked away from Theo, contemplating asking Draco what he knew about the massacre, but the moment he looked up, his eyes met Daphne’s.

“Potter,” She said, pushing herself to her feet, “Could we have a word, in private?”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, “For you, Daphne? Anything.”

Daphne gave him a cold look, “Now, please.”

Theo snorted and kicked him in the leg, “Don’t deny the Queen.”

Harry shot Daphne an amused grin and held his hand out, “My lady.”

Daphne looked at his hand disdainfully and walked past him into the dorm room corridor. He followed her, wondering what on earth could be so important that she needed an immediate audience with him.

She opened the door to the seventh year girls dorm, and Harry’s grin widened, “Greengrass, I didn’t think you were into me.”

“I’m not,” Daphne said, and she didn’t sound cold or irritated, she just sounded tired.

Harry stepped into the dorm room where the other three Slytherin girls were all lounging around.

“Girls,” Daphne said, with the same air of authority that Harry used when he was leading a meeting, “Potter and I need some privacy so if you don’t mind,” she nudged her head in the direction of the bathroom.

Pansy rolled her eyes, “This is _our_ dorm, Daphne.”

“And whose father keeps overlooking the fact the Parkinsons rarely pay the correct import and export taxes, Pansy?” Daphne asked calmly, her icy blue eyes latching onto the dark-haired girls.

Pansy huffed and got to her feet, Tracey winked at Daphne, “We shall give you the room, your highness,” she teased, grabbing Sophie by the hand and pulling her into the bathroom after Pansy.

With a flick of her hand, the bathroom door swung shut. Daphne pulled her wand from behind her ear and murmured an intricate silencing charm, then she fixed that icy gaze on Harry, “Why are you asking questions about the Wood family massacre?”

Harry kept his gaze on hers; she didn’t intimidate him like she did the others, “Why do you care?”

“Potter,” Daphne snapped, “Why are you asking about the Wood baby? What do you know?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “What do _you_ know?”

Daphne crossed her arms over her chest and surveyed Harry, “I can only presume you found out something about what happened that night. The only way you could have done so was from a Death Eater who was there, and since I very much doubt it was a Lestrange or Yaxley who told you, that narrows it down to Dolohov and Rookwood. I will hazard a guess that it was Rookwood since you spent your summer screwing around with his daughter.”

Harry didn’t let her words faze him. Instead, he nodded, “Very perceptive – congratulations. In answer to what I know about the Wood baby? I know who she is.”

Daphne frowned, “Who she is? Potter, what are you talking about? She died in the massacre, just like every other Wood apart from Emmeline who survived on her cowardice alone.”

“She left to save her children, you could argue that makes her the opposite of a coward,” Harry pointed out.

Daphne fixed Harry with a sceptical look, “The Wood baby died.”

“Says who?” Harry asked, “Because I heard it from the last person on the scene – the man who knelt next to Betsy Wood and cried because of the crimes he had committed against humanity. The man who could have gone home to his two young daughters, but instead chose Azkaban because he felt he deserved it.”

Daphne looked at Harry hard for a long moment, “What did Rookwood tell you?”

“That the girl was handed over to muggle authorities and adopted,” Harry replied.

“By Muggles?” Daphne asked.

Harry nodded.

Daphne’s eyes widened, “And if you _know_ her, that means she’s a witch.”

“And since you aren’t surprised by that, _and_ knew of her existence – you know who her father is,” Harry concluded.

“Of course I know who her father is,” Daphne muttered, “The girl is my cousin. My uncle Julian is her father.”

Julian…Harry placed the name, Julian Crouch.

“Your drunken deadbeat Death Eater uncle fathered a child with a squib on the opposing side?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Wow, Potter – could you have been any more offensive if you tried?” Daphne deadpanned.

“Yes, I could have been. Do you want me to try harder next time?” Harry asked sarcastically.

Daphne glared at him in response, “My uncle was in love with Betsy Wood long before he became a Death Eater. He worked at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, and she used to come in for supplies, the Woods treated her like a glorified house-elf, and Uncle Julian took the time to speak to her like a human being. Over time, their meetings became coffee dates, and as the war was coming to its end, he was ready to marry her, squib or not and to hell with the consequences.”

“But then she died,” Harry realised.

“She died, and as far as he was aware, his daughter did too,” Daphne pointed out, “So yes, he became a deadbeat alcoholic.”

Harry cringed, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that through before I insulted him.”

“Anyway, if the girl was raised as a Muggle then she must think she’s a Muggle-born,” Daphne said, changing the subject, “And she would be in our year at…oh sweet Salazar.”

“You got it?” Harry asked, his eyes on hers – he could almost see the cogs whirring in her head as she pieced it together.

“Hermione Granger,” Daphne said in disbelief, “Was Granger born in September 79?”

Harry nodded, “On the 19th.”

Daphne shook her head, “Hermione is Katherine? How did I not work that out?” she smacked herself in the head, “She looks just like Betsy, ugh, I’m so stupid!”

“Woah,” Harry said, gently taking her wrist, “Don’t beat yourself up about it, why would you look for similarities when you thought the baby was dead?”

“Still,” Daphne muttered, a look of distaste suddenly appearing on her face, “I’m related to Hermione Granger.”

“Apparently so,” Harry mused, “But then again, it’s not really surprising that two of the four smartest witches I know are related.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow, “Who are the other two?”

“Lily, and Reyna Rookwood,” Harry replied with ease, “What are you going to do with this information?”

“Well, I won’t be telling my Uncle at the moment, that’s for sure,” Daphne admitted, “The false hope alone would kill him.”

“Hm,” Harry agreed, “I would appreciate it if you could keep the news to yourself until I have a chance to tell the Dark Lord.”

“If you tell the Dark Lord that my uncle fathered a child with a squib, you will be signing his death warrant!” Daphne hissed.

“If I tell the Dark Lord that there is a Crouch heir out there, but unfortunately she is descended from a squib, I won’t be signing any death warrant,” Harry pointed out with a smirk, “It’s all about how I tell him, not what I tell him.”

Daphne eyed him warily.

“Plus, if I don’t tell him at all, I’ll be signing my own death warrant which I’m not keen on doing,” Harry said honestly.

Daphne uncrossed her arms and brought the silencing charm on the bathroom door down with ease.

“Fine, but leave my name out of it. I’m a Greengrass, not a Crouch – I’m neutral.”

Harry nodded and grabbed the door handle, “I know,” he promised, yanking open the door and leaving her in peace.

* * *

“What did you just put in your ear?”

Harry didn’t open his eyes when Theo’s dulcet tones invaded his dorm room, “Fancy little beetle thing. Lucius gave it to me as a gift. It stops the Dark Lord listening in to my thoughts.”

“Have you had dirty dreams again?” Theo teased, his voice closer to Harry now.

Harry opened his eyes and looked to the foot of his bed where Theo was standing, “No, but I don’t want him to find out that Hermione Granger is a half-blood just yet.”

Theo frowned, “What?”

“The Wood massacre,” Harry said, looking up at the roof, “Betsy Wood had a baby who survived. She was handed over to the muggle authorities because the Ministry assumed she would have no magical ability.”

Theo’s eyes widened, “You’re shitting me – Hermione Granger is a Wood?”

“More than that,” Harry said, sitting up in his bed, “Julian Crouch was having a fling with Betsy. Hermione is the Crouch heir.”

Theo dropped onto the bed in front of Harry, “The Know-It-All Princess is my cousin?”

“Shit, yeah,” Harry said, throwing himself back again, “I always forget that you and Daphne are related.”

“I think she wishes she could forget sometimes too,” Theo said, crawling up the bed to kneel above Harry, “What are you going to do with that information?”

“I’m going to tell the Dark Lord in a way that won’t sign a death warrant for Julian Crouch, at Daphne’s request,” Harry said, catching Theo’s eye, “And if I get a chance to talk to Hermione again, I’m going to be really fucking apologetic.”

Theo grinned, “Oh, I’d love to see you grovel.”

Harry snorted, “Never to you, Nott.”

Theo’s eyes flashed playfully, “How long do you reckon it’ll be till he calls us?”

Harry grinned back, knowing exactly where Theo was going with this, “Oh, at least an hour.”

Theo said, “Time enough then,” before leaning down to kiss Harry with an equally mischievous grin.

* * *

Lily was more nervous than she let on when Harry side-apparated her to Malfoy Manor later that evening. She remained silent as Harry led her up the garden path, right up until a peacock blocked their way.

“What’s with the peacock?”

“Lucius Malfoy has something of an affinity for them,” Harry said, shooting Draco an amused grin from where he followed with Theo and Blaise.

The blonde boy rolled his eyes in response, and they carried on walking until they reached the doors. Harry thrust his wand towards them, causing them to billow open dramatically.

Draco muttered under his breath to Blaise, “I could have just touched them to open them.”

“Yes but Harry Potter is a drama queen, remember?” Blaise returned.

If Harry heard anything of their interaction, he ignored it because his eyes had sought out someone else the moment they stepped into the busy entrance hall.

“Gus!”

Augustus Rookwood turned around and smiled, “Harry,” he said, striding across the floor, “How are you? Better since we last spoke?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” Harry lied, “I never got the chance to ask you when we last spoke, but how are things back at the Department of Mysteries?”

“Wonderful,” Augustus said, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulder and steering him away from Lily, “It is truly wonderful to be back.”

Lily took a step closer to Theo in Harry’s absence, and the Slytherin boy placed a hand on her shoulder, “It is nerve-wracking, but we all understand that. All of us have been in your position at some point.”

Lily gave a stiff nod but remained silent.

On the other side of the room, Pyrites had meandered over to Harry and Gus as they caught up. He tutted and tapped his fingers against the mahogany stair rail, “Honestly – you educate a boy on his family history and babysit him all summer, all for him to find a new favourite teacher.”

Harry chuckled, “He’s my favourite teacher, Pollux, that much is true. But you’re my favourite sassy advisor.”

A soft chuckle escaped Pollux’s lips, and he averted his gaze towards Lily, “I see that you work quickly.”

“Hm,” Harry agreed, “She didn’t need much convincing if I’m honest. She hates Muggles, and she already has blood on her hands. I get the impression that she doesn’t mind getting some more on them.”

Before either of the men could comment any further, Reyna drifted over to them. Even in the plain black cloak she was forced to wear for the initiation, she looked as beautiful as ever. Her long brown hair fell around her shoulders, and her full lips were painted their usual cherry red.

“I see the favourite adopted son got a better reception than I did, Daddy,” Reyna remarked.

Gus looked at her in a long-suffering way, “He is the Dark Lords servant and a friend to me, so drop that nonsense. You, however, are still fooling around with that idiot,” he looked disdainfully over at Fawley.

Something flashed in Reyna’s eyes, but she covered it up quickly, “Harry, nice to see you. Is that your new Ravenclaw over there?”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and calmly replied, “That is the Head Girl, who I have convinced to join us, yes. Where is your sister? I thought she might want to witness your initiation?”

“On the contrary, I do not,” A new voice said, “But Mother and Father informed me that I had no choice but to attend.”

“Naomi,” Gus said, his voice full of adoration as he looked upon his eldest child.

“And thus enters the favourite child,” Reyna said sarcastically, she shot Harry an irritated look and lowered her voice, “And he wonders why I have Daddy issues?”

Harry fought to contain the colour that threatened to rise in his cheeks at the memory _that_ brought back. It wasn’t one he wanted to re-live in front of Reyna’s father, that was for sure.

Naomi and Reyna looked very much alike – their dark brown hair was the same tone and freckles danced across both of their faces. The only difference was their eyes – Reyna’s were dark, sometimes they looked green and sometimes they seemed to be a hazel brown. But Naomi had the most vivid blue eyes Harry had ever seen. She held herself differently from Reyna too; it was clear she thought a lot of herself.

“Naomi,” Gus said, “This is Harry Potter, and Harry – this is Naomi, my eldest daughter.”

Naomi shook Harry’s hand and said, “You’re acquainted with Reyna, I hear.”

Harry wasn’t sure how she meant that so he just nodded and replied, “Yes, I am.”

Reyna smirked in response but said nothing.

A bell sounded from somewhere in the distance and they all, bar Lily, knew what that meant – it was time for the Death Eaters to gather outside for the initiation.

Naomi looked at her sister in the eye and said, “I hope you are happy; now that you are choosing this.”

Reyna didn’t let the words phase her, “I am,” she said.

Naomi hooked her arm through her Father’s and was led out of the room with one last nod. Fawley crossed the room and took Reyna’s hand; he used it to pull her towards him and kiss her hard. Harry looked away, quite horrified by how brashly he was acting in front of his peers. When Fawley pulled back, he kissed Reyna on the forehead and murmured something in her ear that Harry couldn’t hear.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Reyna, but she rolled her eyes, “Oh come off it, you have your new bit on the side over there to tend to,” she motioned at Lily, who appropriately enough, was standing with Theo.

“Good luck, Reyna,” Harry said on a parting note.

He didn’t wait for a response as he crossed the room to stand by Lily’s side, “Hey, you okay?”

Lily nodded, “I’m fine.”

“Sorry for abandoning you,” Harry said, leaning down to kiss Lily’s cheek, “Stay in here with Reyna until someone comes to bring you out. After that, you know what to do.”

“You’ve walked me through it enough times,” Lily agreed, but she gave Harry a small, grateful smile.

“You’ll be great,” Harry assured her, placing a hand against her cheek and looking into her dark eyes – on days like this, they seemed more grey than blue.

Theo smiled at Lily, “You’re smart and powerful, not to mention a little bit terrifying. Go out there, do what needs to be done and we’ll see you when it’s over.”

“For a stiff drink,” Harry added.

Lily chuckled and nodded, “On you go then, I don’t want to make you late.”

The two boys gave her a last nod, and supportive smile then made their way out into the grounds where the rest of their peers awaited. Harry scanned the garden, seeing it a bit more full than usual, which intrigued him. But what intrigued him, even more, was the sight of Voldemort, sitting atop his throne in his Tom Riddle ‘disguise’.

_I have my reasons,_ Voldemort thought, his currently blue eyes finding Harry’s in the crowd of Death Eaters.

_Do you mind sharing them with me?_ Harry asked.

_You pointed out that I appear more human in this guise and am therefore more likely to be treated as such. I have used an ancient form of magic to apply a semi-permanent glamour charm to myself._

Harry frowned. _So you could have done this at any point? Reverted to Tom Riddle?_

_I could have, yes. However, until this moment, I did not see any worth in doing so. It has occurred to me that should you continue to recruit followers from Hogwarts, my true appearance in this form may be more than a little unsettling to some. In the past, I have had to cultivate my image as a dark lord in order to spread terror, but now that we have control of the Ministry and Hogwarts, I do not need to be terrifying. It would be more useful to have people follow me out of adoration again._

Harry bit back his thought about Tom Riddle certainly looking good, but Harry knew he had heard it anyway because his lips quirked up in a smirk. Voldemort had made himself look younger than he was but old enough to show those who weren’t in the know that he had been around for some time. In reality, he was 70 years old, but he looked like he was in his mid 40’s – his once jet black hair was now flecked with grey, but he wore it well. Those blue eyes that Harry had first seen back in his second year were as bright and knowing as they had ever been. Even with the age lines upon his face, there was no denying that he was still handsome – he still had that square jaw-line, that knowing smirk, that aura that he knew everything about you just by looking into your eyes.

Yes, Harry decided in his own head, he had probably had a bit of a thing for the young Tom Riddle when he first got to know him through his diary back in his second year.

_Who knew that you were so vain, Tom?_

Voldemort looked him in the eye and smirked, _Vain and handsome, according to you. Ah, here are your Ravenclaws._

Voldemort’s thought drew Harry out of his reverie. He looked towards Malfoy Manor's doors just as Narcissa led Reyna and Lily out into the garden. A glance upwards told him that the moon was still high in the sky, shining through a gap in the clouds.

Two bonfires awaited their sacrifices and next to both of them were two dragons waiting for their cue to light the bonfires - their tamers stood close together at the back of the crowd, talking in whispers and looking into each other’s eyes on occasion. Now that he had been intimate with Theo, Harry knew what that stance meant; he knew exactly what sort of relationship Charlie and Felix had.

Harry looked back to the front of the garden as Lily stepped forward – because initiations worked in alphabetical order, she was up first. Harry had to give her full credit, she held her head high and walked through the jeering Death Eaters, no hint of pain on her face at the names they were calling her.

When she reached him, Lily looked Voldemort directly in the eye and knelt before him, “My lord.”

Voldemort smiled, a sight that looked less terrifying on him in this new, more human form.

“Rise,” He said.

Lily did so, and Voldemort addressed his followers.

“You jeer at this girl because she is not of pure blood,” Voldemort said, his voice high and crisp, cutting through the cold air, “I remember when you jeered at the man we call Osiris, for the same reason.”

Osiris Zabini bowed his head in recognition.

“But I swore him in regardless,” Voldemort continued, “Because he was a valuable asset, a spy for the light, and he has become one of my most loyal followers. He has married well, and he has given the Zabini family an heir. Now young Blaise is in our ranks, and when he marries a pureblooded woman and has a child, the Muggle blood that Osiris is tainted with will almost be bred out.”

The air was silent, and Voldemort placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder, unsurprisingly it was ice cold, but she did not flinch.

“Muggle-born or not, this girl is a powerful witch, and in time, I suspect she will prove that to you,” Voldemort said, “Just as she will prove to the rest of this country that Lord Voldemort is merciful, that I am not a cold-blooded killer. It pains me to spill magical blood, and despite her heritage, this girls blood is indeed, magical.”

Nothing was said on the subject, even though Harry was sure that some of the Death Eaters disagreed. Nonetheless, Voldemort continued with the initiation, having Lily swear an Unbreakable Vow to him.

“Lucius – the sacrifice.”

Only Harry knew what was going to happen next, Lily having confided in him about her sacrifice and the significance of it.

“Mother,” Lily said calmly, her cold eyes sweeping over the woman at her feet.

“Freak,” The woman spat.

She didn’t look like Lily at all – she was thin, her face pockmarked and ugly, her eyes dark and sullen. She looked ill, but Harry knew why that was – years of drug abuse made a person look inhuman. Harry supposed Lily got her looks from her father because her mother seemed like she would have been plain even before the drug use.

There was a general intake of breath amongst the Death Eaters, but Harry smiled, and he looked up at Voldemort – unsurprised to see a smirk on his face.

“This Muggle calls herself my mother,” Lily said, looking out at the Death Eaters, “You jeer at me for being born from Muggles, for being beneath you. It makes you assume that I am a Muggle lover, but how could I love a woman who neglected me? Who treated me like a monster the moment she found out what I was capable of.”

Lily pulled her wand out, and her mother flinched.

“She fears me, and she has done from the moment I came home from Diagon Alley with this,” She gave her wand a little shake, red sparks flew out of it, and her mother shrieked in fear, much to the delight of the Death Eaters.

“And the irony is that she would have had nothing to fear if she could have just treated me like a human being,” Lily said, pointing her wand at her mother, “So Mother, you have spent your entire life putting drugs, alcohol and the scumbags you sleep with before your own daughter and by some miracle, it hasn’t killed you yet. I bet you feel lucky. I bet you feel invincible – you don’t know what an overdose feels like.”

Lily twisted her wand and murmured, “ _Imperio!”_

The ease with which she had cast the curse impressed several Death Eaters. Lily pulled a large needle from her pocket and placed it in her mother's hand, “Inject it all – kill yourself with the drug that you love so much.”

Lily’s mother injected herself with the drug, and Lily cast a spell that Harry didn’t recognise.

“That ought to speed up the effects,” Lily said, crossing her arms and cocking her head at her mother as fear filled the older woman’s eyes.

“Your heart is racing, isn’t it?” Lily asked, “You’re starting to sweat. You’re becoming confused, disoriented; you can’t remember where you are, can you?”

Her eyes spun around in fear, taking in the faces of the Death Eaters all around her. Lily smirked as her mother began to retch, “That’s your body trying to expel the drug, but it won’t work – I’ve made sure of that.”

The sickness didn’t phase Lily, she just took a step back and remained silent as she watched her mother, “When there is nothing left to throw up, you’ll start vomiting blood, and I expect anytime now, you will start to hallucinate.”

Her mother’s eyes widened, and she scrambled back, towards the jeering Death Eaters. She shook her head, mumbling incoherently at something that did not exist. The Death Eaters laughed, finding this Muggle woman’s suffering a great source of entertainment.

“No, don’t,” She said, a little louder, “Regulus, please!”

Harry froze in shock – the name meant something to him, and he could tell from the flicker of surprise that registered in his mind from Voldemort that the Dark Lord understood its significance too.

To Lily, though, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a name, another name of a man her mother had probably slept with at some point. It was almost over anyway; her mother was flailing around, scratching herself, hitting herself and then she fell to the ground and began to seize.

“And this is the end,” Lily said, standing over her mother’s body as she foamed at the mouth, blood seeping out of her nose and eyes, “This is how you die.”

Her mother's body stilled, and without a hint of remorse in her eyes, Lily levitated it onto one of the bonfires. Charlie stroked Sarris’s head and murmured, “Light it up, girl.”

With one gust and a strong breath, the bonfire lit up like a beacon, and Lily let out a sigh of relief, turning to Voldemort and rolling up the sleeve of her cloak.

Voldemort looked upon her for a moment as he took her wrist in his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Harry could sense a shift in Voldemort’s psyche; the new information had changed the way he looked at Lily. He viewed her as something of an equal now; he thought of her as a puzzle that needed to be solved.

Harry suspected Lily’s pain threshold of being as high as his. As such, he was not surprised when the only indication of her pain, was a short cry and a few uncontrollable tears that rolled down her cheeks while the mark was branded upon her.

When he had finished marking her, Voldemort did not immediately drop her hand, “Stay with Narcissa. We shall speak privately after the ceremony.”

Harry could have rolled his eyes, private conversations with Voldemort never ended well, but Harry knew why he was doing it. Voldemort wanted to tell her who her father was; he wanted to be the one to deliver that news; he most certainly did not want Harry to do it.

Irritated as he was, Harry pushed the thought from his mind when Reyna walked forward. Having seen Lily’s show of control and wickedness, she looked, naturally, a little uncomfortable.

As Lily had, she knelt before the Dark Lord then made her vows. As a daughter of one of his most loyal followers, she made a standard vow of homage rather than an Unbreakable Vow. Her sacrifice was then brought forward, and as she had no personal grudges; it was just a random Muggle, plucked from the street.

All the same, Harry suspected that Voldemort had picked that Muggle very careful, to test Reyna – to see how devoted she was to his cause and to see how far she would go.

The Muggle was a boy, a teenager around 13, Harry would guess. His eyes were wide with fear, his clothes tattered and torn, he was slim, malnourished – a street urchin.

“Please don’t hurt me,” He begged.

Reyna showed no outward sign of emotion upon hearing these words.

“Please,” The boy said, “Please, I’m begging you.”

Reyna laughed, a high, humourless sound, “Are you?” she asked, pulling her wand from her pocket, “Surely if you were begging, you would be on your knees.”

The boy fell to his knees, and something flashed in Reyna’s eyes. Harry thought it was mercy - that for a brief moment, she entertained it and wondered if she was capable of cold-blooded murder. But if it was a moment of doubt, Reyna did not consider it for long.

She slashed her wand through the air, uttering the words as the green light hit the boy in the chest.

Voldemort gave a small, approving nod as Reyna levitated the corpse onto the unlit bonfire. Harry chanced a glance at her family, Augustus had a stoic look on his face, giving away nothing of how he truly felt and his wife, Johanna, held her head high. But Naomi kept her gaze downwards, and Harry wondered, not for the first time, if she might prove to be a weak link in the chain.

With a murmur of, “Now, girl,” Lennox lit the bonfire. Felix gave her a dead ferret as a reward for her efforts.

Reyna held her head high and turned to Voldemort, offering her arm to him. Unlike Lily, she did not maintain her composure while he marked her. The pain brought Reyna to her knees; tears poured down her cheeks as she cried through her gritted teeth.

All the same, Voldemort did not look down on her because of it. He had seen men fall apart more than that when they had been marked after all.

“Welcome to our ranks,” Voldemort said, his voice high and cold, “And let us all welcome in a new era.”

There was some applause and cheering, then the group of Death Eaters dispersed across the garden. Harry watched cautiously as Voldemort placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder and led her away. He was itching to find out what would be said between them, and he contemplated trying to slip into Voldemort’s head to observe the conversation subtly.

However, before he could, Voldemort blocked him out and turned very slightly to look behind him. He caught Harry’s eye and smirked, and it took every ounce of self-control that Harry had not to kick something and curse, “Bastard!” as loud as he could.

“Looks like the Dark Lord has a new favourite,” Theo said darkly, “Bellatrix has fallen from grace, so it seems.”

Harry followed his line of sight to Bellatrix, who Narcissa was scolding for something on the other side of the garden.

“So it seems,” Harry agreed, finding an excuse to slip away from his friends. The moment he was alone, he pulled on his invisibility cloak and snuck across the garden so that he could eavesdrop on the Black sister's conversation.

“You heard what she said before she died,” Bellatrix hissed, “That girl is a Black, Narcissa!”

“She may well be,” Narcissa said coolly, “And if she becomes the Dark Lords new favourite then so be it, you worked hard for your place by his side only to throw it away in a moment of foolishness!”

Bellatrix looked around, then muttered, “Quiet!”

“You were foolish, and now, it may cost you your life,” Narcissa hissed, “The Dark Lord met with me privately, Bellatrix. He made it clear that if this child is born, neither you nor it will survive.”

“She will be his heir-”

“He has no interest in an heir conceived under a love potion,” Narcissa cut in, “He does not want a child incapable of love to be brought into this world, not like he was. Did you not stop to consider that before you acted like a madwoman?”

Bellatrix was silent, “But…”

“He cannot love, but he can _feel_ ,” Narcissa said, glaring at her sister, “He is aware of the limitations he has faced by his lack of ability to love. Why would he want to inflict that on another? He is merciful, and he has shown that time and time again. If he were not, you would be dead already.”

Bellatrix swallowed, “I have dreamed of this for so long, I cannot lose this child.”

“You will lose this child, whatever you do,” Narcissa said, “But you have a choice in whether you die with it or not.”

She shook her head, “No, Narcissa, no. We can convince him that the child is Rodolphus’s-”

Narcissa laughed, “Rodolphus? Bellatrix, everyone knows that Rodolphus cannot have children. You tried for long enough, the moment the pregnancy comes to light, everyone will be aware of whose child it is. Lying, hiding it? Those are not options, and the Dark Lord cannot be tricked.”

Bellatrix said nothing.

“This child cannot be born,” Narcissa said with a note of finality, “I suggest you wrap your head around that before the inevitable happens.”

Without another word, Narcissa spun on her heel and stalked away from her sister, leaving Harry’s head reeling as he took in that information.

* * *

In the comfort and privacy of his private lounge, Voldemort urged Lily to sit.

Warily, she sat in an armchair by the fire and Voldemort sat opposite her. He surveyed her through those mesmerising blue eyes that were so difficult to look away from.

“I admire the method that you used to dispose of your mother,” Voldemort said, his voice smooth, soft and low, “It was as inventive as it was vengeful.”

Lily had been expecting some berating, so she looked up in surprise, “Thank you, my lord.”

“I had heard that you already had blood on your hands and that you were more than capable, but all the same – the show you put on out there surprised even me,” Voldemort continued, “I presume that she deserved it?”

Lily swallowed and nodded, “Yes, my lord – she deserved it.”

Voldemort said nothing, but Lily could tell that he was intrigued and wanted to know more.

“She neglected me, that much is true,” Lily said, keeping her gaze down, “But she let things happen to me, things that no woman should let happen to a girl, let alone her daughter.”

Still, Voldemort remained silent, listening intently.

“The Muggle men she let in the house, boyfriends, people she slept with for money for her next fix,” Lily cleared her throat, “Some of them were sick, some of them saw that she had a young daughter and they…” she shook her head.

“The two who got close enough to hurt me? They died,” Lily said simply, “The first time I didn’t even know what I was, I was 10, it was a few months before I got my Hogwarts letter. I just knew that when I got angry, my hands burned, and I could use them to inflict pain.”

Lily looked up at Voldemort, surprised to see that his eyes were still watching her intently, even as she had been staring at the ground.

“And the second time, the Ministry didn’t even investigate it. They just sent me a warning letter – don’t use magic outside of school, Miss Moon – never mind that I had killed a rapist at only 13 years old.”

Something flickered in Voldemort’s eyes, and he rose to his feet.

“They didn’t send anyone out to the hovel that I was forced to spend my summers in. They didn’t do anything to help. I had to take matters into my own hands,” Lily said, her eyes burning angrily, “I was just a kid and they – those _Muggles ­–_ they did this to me.”

Voldemort wouldn’t admit it – not now and perhaps not ever. But Lily reminded him of his mother – she had grown up in poverty, a victim of domestic and sexual abuse at the hands of the people who were supposed to protect her. It made Voldemort feel something new, something he did not think he was capable of feeling – it wasn’t love, but it was a territorial feeling – this girl had protected herself for too long, it was time for someone to take her under their wing, to protect her.

Lily did not flinch when Voldemort cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes, “You deserved more and now, you shall have it.”

She swallowed and looked into his eyes, but she said nothing.

Voldemort dropped his hand, “You are not a muggle-born, you are a half-blood. When she was dying, your mother said the name ‘Regulus’. She was referring to Regulus Black.”

Lily frowned.

“Regulus was a follower of mine,” Voldemort continued, “His elder brother, Sirius, was not. You may know of him; he was wrongly imprisoned for killing the Potters.”

Lily nodded, “Then he escaped, and we all found out that he was Harry’s Godfather. He died in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.”

“Precisely,” Voldemort said, his eyes on the fire ahead of him, “His younger brother joined my ranks the moment he left school, but by the time Regulus was 19 he had disappeared entirely. I assumed that he had deserted, but as he never resurfaced when Harry Potter initially defeated me, I can only presume that he is dead.”

“But…if he was a Death Eater, why would he sleep with a Muggle woman?” Lily asked, trying to wrap her head around this fact.

Voldemort pondered on this, wondering whether he ought to tell her the truth or sugar-coat it. In the end, he decided that she had been through enough to handle an unpleasant truth about the first war.

“I view Muggles as indispensable – whether they live or die, it does not matter to me,” Voldemort explained.

“During the first war, my followers would raid Muggle areas to incite fear amongst the light, and in the course of these raids, some indiscretions did occur.”

“Rape,” Lily said bluntly, “They raped Muggles.”

“They were supposed to dispose of them afterwards, in any event,” Voldemort continued calmly, “But Regulus always was weak…”

“And therefore, here I am,” Lily realised.

“Indeed,” Voldemort said, curious blue eyes meeting stormy grey, “But in this instance, I thank Regulus’s cowardice because you, my dear, are truly fascinating. You seem older than your years.”

“Well,” Lily mused, “I’m traumatised, so I guess that ages a person.”

Her dark sense of humour made Voldemort smirk, “You joke about your suffering?”

“What doesn’t kill you gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humour,” Lily returned.

Voldemort chuckled and held out his hand, “We ought to re-join the celebrations. I am sure Harry will be wondering where you have gotten to.”

Lily took his hand and got to her feet, “Harry is not my keeper.”

Voldemort held out his arm, and Lily hooked hers through it. They walked through the corridors of Malfoy Manor together, and Voldemort said, “Of course not. You are your own witch. This evening made that apparent to everyone.”

Lily smiled triumphantly.

“Do you find that Harry has a rather short attention span?” Voldemort asked curiously, “I find it to be one of his more irritating personality traits.”

“In his defence, because of the way the light side was with him, he’s never really had a chance to be normal,” Lily confessed, “I think in some ways, he might be catching up a little. I think if you let him act rashly, like the teenager he has never been allowed to be; maybe it will help him grow. He will be a stronger person for it, and he will be thankful to you for being the first person to let him be normal for a while.”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at her, “It is no wonder that you are in Ravenclaw. You are incredibly perceptive.”

Lily shrugged, “I learned to read people at an early age. It was a survival skill with the way I grew up.”

Her words made Voldemort think about the orphanage he had grown up in and the survival skills he had been forced to learn there. Flashes of that life invaded his mind – the Muggle children who had bullied him because they didn’t understand him – they had suffered, of course, they had never been the same after they came out of that cave.

Voldemort pushed the memories aside and said nothing. He did not talk about that aspect of his life, let alone think about it, but this girl, this girl who he had just met forced those long-buried memories to come to the surface. He wondered why that was as they stepped out into the garden together.

Bellatrix looked torn between being horrified and bursting into tears when she saw Lily on Voldemort’s arm, and the Dark Lord smirked at his former ‘favourite’ in response.

She would learn the hard way what happened to people who betrayed his trust.

* * *

Harry huffed irritably when he saw Voldemort emerge from the house with Lily on his arm. He leant against one of the statues in the garden and tried to close his mind as Voldemort invaded it, projecting thoughts about Lily over to him. Harry bit back an irritated growl; this was the Dark Lords way of punishing him.

“Not going to congratulate me, Harry?”

Harry looked over at Reyna and nodded in the direction of Voldemort and Lily, “Do you think life smokes after it fucks me?”

Reyna followed his line of sight and snorted, “Definitely – and not only does it smoke, it smokes expensive Cuban cigars.”

Harry chuckled and looked at her, “Do you know something? I’ve kind of missed you.”

Reyna smirked, “Of course you have. I would suggest a repeat of your birthday party, but from the look on my father's face, I would guess that was a write-off.”

Harry looked across the garden at Gus, only to find the older man staring right back at him. He made a slitting motion across his throat, and Harry took a cautionary step away from Reyna.

“Not to mention your boyfriend and what he would say,” Harry said, scanning the garden to look for Fawley, but not seeing him.

Reyna rolled her eyes in response.

Harry leaned against a nearby tree and looked at the older girl, “I will admit. When I watched your initiation, at one point, I didn’t think you would be able to do it.”

Reyna frowned, and as regret flashed in her eyes, a spell around her flickered, briefly exposing a bruise on her face.

Harry grabbed her by the wrist, “What the fuck was that, Reyna?”

“What?” Reyna asked, yanking her wrist from his grip.

Harry glanced around and pulled Reyna into the peacock infested hedge maze, “You’ve got a glamour on.”

“I always have a glamour on, do you think I would look this flawless without one?” Reyna joked.

Harry waved his wand irritably and muttered, _“Finite Incantatem_.”

The glamour dropped, and the bruise on Reyna’s face shone against the moonlight. She glared at him and tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he acted on suspicion and lifted her top, seeing marks on her stomach and back. He had known they were there from their rendezvous in the woods, but it wasn’t until now that Harry realised what they meant.

Reyna pulled away from him, pulling her wand out in one fluid movement and pressing the tip against Harry’s chest.

Harry’s wand was still in his hand, but he didn’t raise it. Instead, he looked Reyna in the eye and said, “I am going to fucking _kill_ him. Do you hear me?”

Reyna said nothing, her eyes on Harry’s.

“What kind of cowardly man does that?” Harry hissed, “Did he hurt you when he found out about what we did?”

Reyna swallowed and lowered her wand, “I’m a big girl, Harry – I can take it.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Daddy issues or not, you don’t get to stand by and take his abuse,” Harry said, his voice quiet but demanding, “So answer the goddamn question – did he hurt you after he found out about us?”

“Yes,” Reyna admitted.

“Show me,” Harry ordered.

Reyna sighed and lifted her top, showing him a long, thin scar on her side.

“Cutting curse?” Harry asked.

Reyna nodded.

Harry pushed himself away from the hedge, and Reyna followed him, “Harry, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to ask for permission first, and then I’m going to kill him,” Harry said hotly, “And by Merlin, I am going to _enjoy_ it.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” Reyna said as he jogged after him.

“Apparently you do, Reyna,” Harry said irritably, “Because otherwise, you would have done something about it by now. There’s a difference between Daddy issues and full-scale abuse, and I know the difference better than anybody, except for maybe Lily.”

Before Reyna could argue any further, Harry stalked up to Voldemort, who was still with Lily.

“Forgive me for interrupting, my lord,” Harry said, remarkably calmly.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, “You have a good reason for doing so, I presume?”

“Yes. I would like to ask for your permission to challenge Fawley to a duel to the death,” Harry said, as calm as he had been when he stepped up onto the podium where Voldemort’s throne stood.

Suddenly Harry felt that Voldemort’s full attention was on him. He looked Harry in the eye and thought, _Explain._

Harry did not break eye contact as he thought, _I’ll show you._

He focused on Reyna, on the bruise, the glamour, her scars and the conversation he had just had with her. Voldemort did not let on that Harry’s thoughts and memories were flashing before him, but Lily looked between the two men as they communicated without words.

_If you need him then, of course, I will not kill him, but I still want to duel him because nobody deserves that, far less one of our own._

_I have no use for him,_ Voldemort thought. Then he said aloud, “Make an example of him.”

Harry nodded and bowed his head, “Thank you, my lord.”

“Harry-”

“He deserves it, Reyna!” Harry spat, stalking across the garden, his hand twitching his wand holster as he approached Fawley.

The curse breaker was talking with Azriel Gibbon when Harry reached him.

“Stuart Fawley, I challenge you to a duel to the death for the crime of abusing one of our own.”

Upon hearing those words, Augustus looked at Reyna in horror. Her face fell as her father strode towards her.

Fawley laughed and pulled out his wand, “I have no idea what you mean, Potter.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Harry said.

The other Death Eaters were all making their way over, moving back to create a wide berth for the duel to take place.

“You think you, a baby Death Eater, can take on a fully trained curse breaker like me?” Fawley asked with an amused grin.

“I think me, a 16-year-old boy who wasn’t even a Death Eater yet killed the great Albus Dumbledore,” Harry said calmly, “So why would I be scared to take on a sub-standard Death Eater and barely capable curse breaker like yourself, Fawley?”

Fawley’s jaw set and he threw an entrail expelling curse at Harry. However, Harry ducked before it could hit him, “ _Reducto!”_

The curse destroyed the shield charm that Fawley had just put up, scaring the older man for the first time.

“ _Confringo!”_

_“Protego!”_ Harry’s shield charm absorbed the fiery explosion, “ _Baubillious!”_

The charm sent a bolt of lightning at Fawley – it was unshieldable but easily avoidable by transfiguring or summoning a large rock which was precisely what Fawley did. The lightning split the rock in half, but Harry used the moment of distraction to prepare for his next move – a bludgeoning curse.

The moment the rock split, the spell flew through the crack, hitting Fawley in the face. He reeled back and cried out in pain as the charm acted like a punch to the face. Before Fawley had a chance to recover, Harry slashed his wand through the air and cried, “ _Sectumsempra!”_

He used his wand like a sword, slicing it through the air and causing deep, lacerations on Fawley’s torso and back, in the same way that he had hurt Reyna. It was vindictive, and maybe even a little petty, but Harry felt that if anyone deserved it, Fawley did.

He brought his wand down with precision and at that point, a hand on Harry’s shoulder stalled him.

Fawley was on his knees, screaming in pain, blood pouring from his extensive wounds.

“He deserves worse,” Augustus’s voice said, but it sounded different. It wasn’t light and jovial; it was cold and low.

Harry looked over his shoulder at the older, taller man.

“He deserves to be ripped apart for what he did to her,” Augustus growled.

Harry understood what his mentor meant. He smirked and held his wand out in front of him just as Gus did the same thing.

“ _Accio_!”

They each magically took hold of one of Fawley’s arms and pulled, earning a hiss from some of the more meek Death Eaters. Fawley’s screams of pain filled the air, and then two sickening pops, punctuated by a feral howl of pain, made someone in the distance scream.

Harry trained his wand on Fawley’s head, and Augustus did the same.

“Together?” Harry asked his mentor.

Augustus gave a curt nod.

“ _Reducto!”_

“ _Reducto!”_

The two spells, both cast by powerful wizards, hit Fawley in the head simultaneously. His head imploded, making the Death Eaters draw back as blood and gore sprayed everywhere.

With a manic expression on his blood-covered face, Augustus turned to the crowd of Death Eaters and roared.

“And if the rest of you ever so much as _touch_ either of my daughters, that’s the least I’ll do to you! It won’t be as quick as what happened to him; it will be long, slow and drawn out!”

Nobody said anything, but the fear on their faces was evident. Harry had known that Augustus was powerful of course, but he had also learned that the ten plus years he had spent in Azkaban had left him a little unhinged. He just hid it better than a lot of the other former inmates did.

The Death Eaters all looked from Augustus to Harry, whose expression was perfectly calm. He was covered in blood, just as Augustus was – beneath it, all that could be seen were his green eyes, glinting vividly and full of triumph.

At that moment, it was evident that they feared him more than they feared Gus – the man who had been one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers for a long time. As the crowd began to disperse, Harry looked at Reyna.

Her big sister had her arm around her; she was as white as a sheet and shaken. He tried to catch her eye, but Naomi swept her away, both from Harry and Gus.

Harry sighed and spat out a mouthful of Fawley’s blood distastefully.

“All that blood looks good on you,” A sarcastic voice said, “Really brings out your eyes.”

Harry looked up at Theo, “Funny,” he said dryly.

“Seriously mate, you’re in dire need of a shower,” Theo said, a hint of concern in his voice.

Harry cast a basic Scourgify on himself and looked over at Lily – even she looked shocked at what she had just seen, despite what she had done to her mother earlier. He drew his eyes away as Draco walked towards them warily.

“Scared of me, Malfoy?” Harry asked irritably.

“Don’t be so stupid, of course, I’m not scared of you,” Draco snapped, “But you’ve been a Death Eater for all of two months, and you think you can kill whoever you want?”

“I asked for permission, Draco,” Harry said, his eyes on the blonde boys.

Draco scoffed and shook his head, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Harry laughed bitterly, “Who do I think I am? - I’m who you were meant to be.”

Draco didn’t say anything, so Harry pushed past him towards the gate, and without a word to Draco, Theo followed.

* * *

“You seem shocked by that display of violence, my dear.”

Voldemort’s voice drew Lily out of her thoughts, “No, well…yes.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, curious blue eyes meeting dark, confused ones, “You are unsure?”

“No, it wasn’t the violence that shocked me,” Lily said, looking at the mess that had once been Stuart Fawley, “I just never saw Harry as a proper Death Eater until tonight. I knew he talked the talk, and I could tell that he was intelligent, but I never realised how ruthless he was.”

Voldemort hummed thoughtfully and sipped his firewhiskey, “And does it make you think less of him?”

“No, I’m just adjusting my impression of Harry,” Lily mused, “It wasn’t the way I would have killed him. It was messy.”

“It was impulsive,” Voldemort agreed dryly, “As are most of his decisions.”

“I get the impression that’s not a trait you like?” Lily guessed.

“You would be correct,” Voldemort agreed, “Gryffindors are impulsive, they act rashly. I do not believe in rash actions.”

Lily leant against the wall and surveyed Voldemort, “I had you down as a typical Slytherin, you know? I thought Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark wizard in the world, yeah, he must have been Slytherin through and through.”

“And having met me, you doubt that?” Voldemort asked with interest.

Lily smiled, “You’re not a madman, I think the light paint you that way to make you seem less human because the truth of the matter is much scarier – you are smart, _so_ smart. I think you might be the smartest person I have ever met. I can see exactly why you were in Slytherin, but there is a lot of Ravenclaw in you too.”

“The two houses are of course irrevocably linked,” Voldemort said, his eyes on Harry as he stalked out of the garden with Theo, “And it is why Slytherins and Ravenclaws tend to lean towards the dark while Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs lean towards the light.”

Lily cocked her head at him, “You’re also very rational.”

“You thought me to be a monster, I presume?” Voldemort guessed.

“Perhaps,” Lily mused, “But then again, a monster is not such a terrible thing to be.”

“No?” Voldemort asked, entirely intrigued by this girl.

Lily shook her head, “From the Latin, _monstrum,_ a divine omen of misfortune. Then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal,” she took a cautious step closer to Voldemort.

“A lighthouse – both shelter and warning at once.”

“Do you want me to be your shelter, Lillian?” Voldemort asked quietly, his eyes still on hers.

Lily knew that the question had a double meaning. It was for this reason that she hesitated, her eyes still on his, her stomach squirming uncomfortably as those eyes bored into her mind, and her very soul it seemed.

“Yes,” she eventually managed to say.

* * *

“I really think we should talk about what happened back there,” Theo was saying to Harry in his dorm room later that evening.

“We don’t need to talk about it, Theo,” Harry said evasively.

“Come on, Harry, you just blew up a guys head,” Theo said, “You need to talk about that.”

“I don’t need to talk about it, Theo, I’m fine,” Harry said, pushing his shirt off and walking towards the bathroom in only his trousers, “I’m going for a shower.”

Theo didn’t say anything, so Harry stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He kicked his trousers and boxers off and stepped into the shower, turning it on as hot as it would go and resting his head against the wall.

He shut his eyes tightly and felt a wave of warmth flood him. It had come from Voldemort; he was happy, happier than Harry could ever remember feeling him. The reason for that happiness was apparent – Lily.

“Look – badass Death Eater or not, blowing up a guy's head is a big deal.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open, and he looked at Theo irritably. He was leaning against the shower, his dark eyes shamelessly raking over Harry.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, Nott. Could you just fuck off?”

“If you wanted me gone, you would have said that like you meant it,” Theo said, his eyes meeting Harry’s.

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Theo’s wrist. With a yank, he pulled him into the shower cubicle and with an irritated mutter, he had vanished Theo’s clothes.

“If you’re going to be here, you might as well be fucking useful,” Harry said, pressing the naked, wet man against the cold, tiled wall, “And just in case you haven’t realised, I do not want to fucking talk about it,” he growled.

Harry then crashed his lips against Theo’s, pinning him to the wall with the weight of his own body and revelling in the heat of the water, almost burning his body, against the cool tiled wall that he had Theo pressed against.

Theo’s attempts to get Harry to talk about what had happened died in his throat. He dedicated himself towards putting his tongue to better use, fighting with Harry for control of the kiss and losing spectacularly.

While Harry did not want to talk about what had happened, he couldn’t deny that it had affected him. He pushed that down and tried not to think about it, he focused on Theo’s lips, on Theo’s teeth against the flesh of his neck, on Theo’s hot body, pressed against his own.

But truthfully, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time his mind went blank, he was back in that moment, torturing and ultimately killing Fawley and maybe Theo was right, perhaps he did need to talk about it. All the same, it took him a while to admit that. It wasn’t until he was thrusting into Theo, the heat of the shower bearing down on them both, that Harry finally came to terms with what he had done.

“He deserved it,” Harry said, his mouth against the shell of Theo’s ear.

“Yes,” Theo gasped, tightening his grip on Harry’s shoulder, “He did.”

“He deserved every slash of my fucking wand,” Harry hissed, thrusting into Theo harder than he had the last time, “And do you know what?”

“You enjoyed it,” Theo said, his voice barely a whisper. The words, something about them, made Harry tumble over the edge – capturing Theo’s lips in a messy, half-arsed kiss as he did so.

When Harry broke the kiss, they were breathing heavily. After a few silent minutes, Harry drew back enough to look into Theo’s eyes – they were heavily-lidded and filled with lust.

“Damn right, I enjoyed it,” Harry said, without breaking eye contact, “I enjoyed how powerful I felt in that moment. I enjoyed his screams, and I _enjoyed_ his fear.”

Harry tore his eyes away from Theo’s and leant forward, resting his head on Theo’s shoulder, “Maybe I am a monster now, but because of that, I was able to do something tonight. If I were still the old me, the pathetic Harry Potter, the lights fucking poster boy, there would have been nothing I could have done. But I made Fawley pay, and I did that because of the person that the Dark Lord shaped me into. I’m fucking proud of that, Theo.”

Theo’s chin rested on top of Harry’s head, “And you should be. But you are also fucking exhausted, Harry. It doesn’t matter how powerful you are when you get angry; you’re also a 17-year-old kid who managed to stand up with a 50-year-old Death Eater and come off as the better person.”

Harry looked up at Theo, his dark eyes were full of concern, “You need to sleep, and when you wake up, you need to eat something. I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re human like the rest of us.”

Harry sighed and blew out a breath against Theo’s neck, eliciting a shiver from the dark-eyed boy, “I’m so tired, Theo.”

“I know,” Theo said, his voice softer than usual, “I know, Harry.”

*** TBC ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m expecting reviews along the lines of, “Is anyone in this story actually a Muggleborn?!” so I’ll pre-empt the issue and explain now! Harry’s whole point is really, how many Muggleborns are actually Muggleborns? What if they just didn’t know one parent? Or didn’t know they were adopted? Magic has to come from somewhere. As it turns out, more often than not, he’s right – a muggle-born actually has a squib parent, or magical parent basically proving Harry right and justifying the fact Voldemort isn’t point-blank wiping out all Muggleborns in this story. 
> 
> Hopefully, that explains the situation well enough 😊 It’s also why Lily is so powerful because she’s a Black and although they can be mad and inbred, we see from Bellatrix, Narcissa, Sirius etc that its also a family that produces very talented, powerful witches and wizards 😊
> 
> Also: the section with Lily talking about monsters, and the quote about being like a lighthouse is from this source - Ocean Vuong, from "A Letter To My Mother That She Will Never Read", published in 'The New Yorker'.


	22. The Price of Your Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of Harry’s actions finally begin to haunt him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson.
> 
> A/N:  
> To anyone re-reading this chapter, you will notice that I removed a certain scene. I did so due to the number of comments I got for it, all of which I felt were untrue (I'm sorry but I don't see how it could be classed as paedophilia when our age of consent in the UK is 16 or rape when Harry goaded Voldemort in the first place before he took possession of Harry's body) but anyway. I don't spend all my free time writing/editing to make sure I can keep up with the weekly update to get some of the comments that I did. The needlessly hateful comments have been deleted, the scene has been removed but be warned LILY X VOLDEMORT/TOM is going to happen and if that's going to make you uncomfortable, then get off this train now, please.
> 
> To anyone still following - thank you for not being an immature pain in the arse who feels the need to hate on a story because they aren't comfortable with a storyline! :)

Harry slept soundly for a few hours. Then his sleep was disturbed by screams and violent images. He woke up and disentangled himself from Theo, who slept on soundly. Harry doubted that he would get back to sleep, so he slipped into the Head Common Room, intending to light a fire and try to lose himself in a book for a little while.

He was surprised to find the room occupied; it was 2.30 am; after all, he had expected Lily to be in bed.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked.

Harry shook his head and sat down next to her on the sofa, “Nightmares,” he said, resting his hand close to hers.

Lily intertwined her fingers through his, “I wonder why that could be,” she said sarcastically.

Harry sighed and used their intertwined hands to pull her closer to him. He needed the contact, a warm body against his, a hand in his own, the soft sound of another heart beating.

“Do you know what I regret the most?” Harry asked quietly.

“The countless innocent lives you’ve destroyed?” Lily quipped.

At that, Harry lost his temper. He let go of her hand and got to his feet, “That man I killed tonight wasn’t innocent, Lily. He was an abusive piece of shit and yeah, I know, everyone thinks that Reyna doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s the butt of the joke, the girl I fucked against a tree and lost my virginity to, but you better than anyone ought to know that men who fuck with women, deserve to die.”

Lily’s eyes flashed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that was what he had done.”

“He beat Reyna, he hurt her with magic,” Harry fumed, “And I know sometimes we can indulge in a little bit of pain in the bedroom but the scars that he left Reyna with? That’s something entirely different.”

“I get that,” Lily promised, “But are you sure that this is all about Reyna and Fawley? Because it seems to be more than that, it seems to be between you and me.”

Harry almost scoffed, “Really?” he asked sarcastically, “Do you think it could have something to do with the fact you spent the whole night hanging off the Dark Lords arm?”

Lily raised an eyebrow, “So this is jealousy? Let me get this right, you get to sleep with Theo _and_ me, but I can’t indulge in some friendly conversation with the Dark Lord.”

“Friendly conversation,” Harry said, shaking his head, “It was more than friendly conversation, and I know that because I could hear his thoughts the entire time.”

Lily looked up in surprise, “What?”

Harry sat down on the sofa and looked into the fire.

“There’s a mind link between the Dark Lord and me, when one of us is feeling emotional we leave ourselves vulnerable, and the other person can see our thoughts, our memories, hear and see everything that we see.”

Lily turned her entire body to look at Harry, “That’s unheard of.”

With a nod, Harry said, “I know, it’s why the Dark Lord is so happy to have me fighting with him rather than against him. The Dark Lord is far better with Legilimency and Occlumency than me so he can use the link to torment me, or to taunt me like he did tonight.”

Lily's frown deepened, "What was he thinking about then?"

"How fond of you he was mostly," Harry admitted, "But he enjoyed throwing that in my face, he thinks I'm foolish for engaging in pointless sex or whatever he calls it."

"He thinks you're distracted, there's a difference," Lily cut in.

"So he talked to you about it too?" Harry shook his head, "From the minute I joined him, I've been at the Dark Lords whim, a servant. I expected it, I expected to have to do what he told me even if I disagreed but this control over my life? This feeling like I have a controlling parent...I didn't expect that."

"He has a point though, Harry - like any parent who doesn't know how to show that they care," Lily said, her eyes meeting his, "You are distracted, and some might say that you are acting foolishly, or rashly.

Harry sighed, "Why do I get the impression we're breaking up?"

"You can't break up with someone when you've never been together," Lily pointed out, "But I do wonder if we might be better off as friends."

"And this has nothing to do with your friendly conversation with the Dark Lord tonight?"

Lily gave Harry a knowing look, "It has everything to do with that, and you know it."

“Friends, then?” Harry asked, holding out a hand.

Lily took it, "Friends," she agreed, shaking his hand and kissing him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Lil."

"Goodnight, Harry.

* * *

When Theo woke up the next morning, it was apparent that Harry was in a foul mood. He wasn’t in bed but had instead opted to throw spells at a dummy, hence why Theo had awoken in the first place.

“Mate, it’s 6 am.”

Harry cast a particularly violent cutting curse at the dummy’s face, “I’m pissed off.”

Theo rubbed his eyes and sat up, “Okay…”

“You’re also my only form of stress relief now,” Harry remarked, encasing the dummy in a fire circle.

“Charming way to refer to the guy who lets you do pretty much whatever you want to him,” Theo said calmly, stretching out and yawning.

Harry kicked the dummy irritably, extinguishing the fire with a click of his fingers, “I’m sorry, I’ve had a shit night. Would you prefer it if I said, _Theo, due to circumstances outwith my control, I have lost my female sex-partner and will require your services more frequently. Please be so kind as to suck my dick whenever I ask._?”

Theo threw a pillow at him, “Bite me.”

Harry grinned and knelt on the bed, pulling Theo up to him. Theo was expecting Harry to actually bite him, so Harry threw him off by kissing him first. He kissed him hard, taking some of his frustration out as he put a knee in-between Theo’s legs to stop him from wriggling out of his reach. Theo pulled Harry closer and deepened the kiss when Harry broke it and moved his lips to his neck.

He let out a low growl of pain as Harry bit him, right on the sensitive bit of flesh above his collar bone.

“Don’t push me,” Harry said, his voice low as he moved back up the bed.

Theo looked at him, his eyes focused on his lips, “You’ve got blood on your…” he trailed off.

Harry knew, but he kissed Theo again anyway, revelling in the way the other boy groaned into his mouth. Theo was naked, Harry was mostly naked, and he didn’t give a shit if he was late for class, so there was no doubt in his mind about where he would be taking this.

“Oi - I'm not shagging you til you tell me why you and Lily are done," Theo asked, murmuring a basic healing charm on the bitemark on his shoulder.

“Hm,” Was all Harry said.

“And was it really due to circumstances outwith your control or did you fuck it up?” Theo asked.

“For once, it wasn't my fault,” Harry confessed, “The Dark Lord spent the whole night parading Lily around and smirking about it which I thought was just his way of being vindictive but it turns out he's taken a shine to her, and she seems to have something of a fondness for him."

“Oh Merlin,” Theo said, "Lily and the Dark Lord?!"

“Yeah," Harry said with a shake of his head.

"So your master stole your girlfriend. Hence the poor dummy you're attacking," Theo realised.

"Pretty much."

"Why not go all the way and put his face on it?"

"Because Theo, I quite enjoy living and I would like to continue to do so," Harry replied dryly.

Theo nodded, "Fair enough," he said, his eyes surveying Harry for a moment longer, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, sounding as tired as he looked, "I'll be fine."

* * *

Not long after his sleepless night, Harry was sitting in the great hall with a cup of coffee in his hand and a piece of untouched toast on his plate. Those who knew what had happened the night before were watching him warily, and those who were unaware said nothing, they simply cast curious glances his way.

The relative peace was broken by the sound of heels clicking over to the table. Harry looked up, expecting to see Lily – not Lavender Brown. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked furious.

“You are a monster!” Lavender hissed, “You killed my Uncle last night!”

Harry laughed, not a humourless, bitter laugh, but a proper laugh, “Are you for fucking real?”

“I know what you did!” Lavender seethed, “My mother told me!”

“She was there, was she?” Harry asked calmly.

Lavender blanched, “Well no…but-”

“Do you know who _was_ there?” Harry asked, getting to his feet and towering over her, “Your brother-in-law, and he didn’t come running to tell you the news, did he?”

“That is because we do not associate with my sister anymore,” Lavender said, sticking her nose up in the air, “Not since the boy she married became a beast, like you!”

Harry laughed, “Oh, get off your high horse, Lavender. Your family are nowhere near as neutral as you pretend to be – you still see your sister all of the time, you have her and Cadmus Selwyn over for family dinners.”

The colour rose in Lavender's cheeks, and Harry scoffed, “And the Uncle you’re crying over? He was a Death Eater too, don’t paint him as an innocent victim. Do you know why I killed him? Or didn’t Mummy tell you about that part?”

“Because you’re evil, obviously!”

“Evil,” Harry scoffed, “No, _he_ was evil and more than that, he was a coward. He was no saint, and he was abusing a girl, not much older than you, all to make himself feel more powerful because he was good at fuck all else.”

Lavender reeled in horror, “No, that’s not true – you’re lying!”

“He isn’t lying,” Theo said calmly, “We were there. We saw it.”

Blaise nodded, “And Harry didn’t personally victimise your Uncle, Brown. The girl's father helped Harry kill him because _no one_ treats a woman like that.”

“So Death Eaters have a code of honour now?” A new voice asked.

Harry looked past Lavender to the Hufflepuff table where a redheaded girl seemed to be quietly seething.

“Yes, Bones, Death Eaters have honour,” Harry said, walking towards the Hufflepuff table, “Say what you want about me, make me the villain in your story if that’s what makes you feel better. But if you think I’ll stand back and let a 40-year-old fuck and abuse an 18-year-old girl then you have another thing coming.”

“Potter,” A cold, drawling voice said, “Enough.”

Harry looked up, seeing Snape standing inches away from him.

“My apologies, Headmaster.”

Snape nudged his head towards the door, “My office, now.”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Yes, Headmaster.”

He turned to leave, but before he could, a younger girl jumped up from the Gryffindor table. She had dark red hair and blue eyes, and although Harry couldn’t place how, she looked vaguely familiar.

“Potter.”

Harry looked at her, “Yes?”

“My mother told me what you did for Reyna last night,” The girl said, “I’m Tessa, her cousin.”

Harry frowned, Tessa? The name didn’t sound familiar, but suddenly her familiar appearance made sense, this girl reminded him of Emelia.

“Emelia Avery’s sister?”

Tessa nodded. Harry guessed she was a good few years younger than Emelia – 5th year, probably.

“Yes, my father hasn’t spoken to me much since I was sorted into Gryffindor, but Reyna always writes,” Tessa said, her eyes meeting Harry’s, “I knew what he was doing, but she would never admit it, and I was terrified of how it would end, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, unsure how else to respond to that.

“Potter,” Snape’s voice demanded.

_I’m going,_ Harry thought to himself irritably. But he responded with a simple, “Yes, Headmaster,” and then he left the hall. He was aware that Snape wasn’t behind him, and at first, Harry wondered how he would get into the office without the Headmaster. But the moment he reached the stone gargoyles, they jumped aside.

It felt a little nostalgic, riding the staircase up to the office. Harry stepped inside, surprised to see that apart from the lack of Fawkes presence, it hadn’t changed at all. He sat down in front of the desk and looked around, his eyes falling on something new – a portrait.

The occupant sighed deeply, “Harry, my boy-”

“Oh do fuck off, Albus,” Harry said dryly.

“What have you become?” The old man asked sadly.

“Everything you tried to stop me from becoming,” Harry answered, “And perhaps that was who I was meant to be all along.”

Dumbledore’s eyes, the ones that Harry had always thought sparkled with joy – looked upon him disdainfully, “Oh, are you disappointed, Albus? You look like a child whose puppy has just been murdered.”

Harry leant back in his chair and mused, “But then I suppose this is what happens when you cage someone for so long. Not that I knew I was caged mind you, but that was all part of your big plan, wasn’t it? After all, the best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure that he never knows he’s in prison.”

“It was not my intention to imprison you, Harry-”

“Like hell, it wasn’t,” Harry cut in, “And if it weren’t for Snape, I would still be in that cage.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed, “A decision that he no doubt regrets now.”

“That’s his problem,” Harry said darkly, “He needs to focus on the school and let the Dark Lord take care of everything else. His plans are relatively peaceful, with the exception of the Muggles of course.”

“Lord Voldemort is anything but peaceful, Harry. I do not know how he managed to fool you into believing that he is-”

“He is peaceful, and he is merciful,” Harry said before Dumbledore could drivel on any further, “And that’s the difference between you and him, Albus. You’re a bloody hypocrite anyway, banging on about how its wrong to hurt muggles. The Dark Lord and I found out all about your big secret after Elphias Doge was killed and his home seized.”

Genuine fear and shame shone in Dumbledore’s eyes.

“We know all about your _relationship_ with Grindelwald,” Harry said, his eyes flashing menacingly.

This made Dumbledore fall silent, his eyes, and several other Headmasters in the room, on Harry.

“Anyway, you can’t truly call yourself peaceful unless you are capable of great violence. If you’re not capable of violence then you’re not peaceful, you’re harmless,” Harry said, his eyes glaring into Dumbledore’s portrait, “It’s an important distinction.”

“Indeed,” Snape’s voice said as the door snapped shut, “Another important distinction is knowing when to keep your mouth shut, Potter.”

Harry grimaced, he should have seen that coming.

“How do you think the Dark Lord will feel when he hears about the scene you made in the Great Hall this morning?”

Honestly, Harry didn’t think the Dark Lord would give a shit. Lavender Brown had been asking for it, and everything Harry had said was true.

_Correct, but was it not **you** who warned **me** not to draw attention to myself unnecessarily?_

Harry grimaced once more, _Yes, but come on – what did she expect? She acted like he was a saint. He deserved everything he got, and you wanted me to make an example of him. Doesn’t that send out an example?_

_It was not quite the sort of example I intended, but yes._

“Well, Potter?”

“He says it’s okay because I made an example of Fawley,” Harry replied.

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, “You are talking to him, right now?”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

Snape narrowed his eyes, “Prove it."

Harry sighed, "Use Legilimency on me, and you should be able to hear him in my head."

Snape whipped out his wand and thrust it in Harry's direction, _"Legilmens!"_

_The boy tells the truth, Severus_ , Voldemort’s words said in Harry’s mind _. Although he acted rashly, his actions did send out a message to the students of Hogwarts. Perhaps if they fear their Head Boy and truly believe him to be loyal to me, then they shall begin to see the error of their ways._

Snape swallowed his irritation and said aloud, “Yes, my lord. I apologise for criticising the boy.”

_No, he still ought to be punished. I will leave his fate up to you._

“Thank you, my lord."

Snape finished the spell and Harry opened his eyes, looking warily at his Headmaster. 

Snape smirked in amusement, “You heard what the Dark Lord said?”

“What while he was in my head? Uh yeah, I heard that,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Since you seem incapable of keeping your mouth shut, I think your punishment should be a fitting one,” Snape said, raising his wand and pointing it at Harry, “ _Silencio Sustinetis_!” 

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and he rolled his eyes in frustration. 

“The effects can last for a day, or they can last for a week,” Snape said smugly, tucking his wand away, “They will wear off eventually but until then, learn how to control that sharp tongue of yours, Potter.” 

Harry would have made a sarcastic comment about how Theo knew just fine that Harry did know how to use his ‘sharp’ tongue, but of course, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t be making any sassy comments for the foreseeable future, so it seemed.

Annoyingly enough, as Harry stomped out of the Headmasters office, he had to admit, he couldn’t fault Snape's logic. 

* * *

When Harry walked into the Slytherin common room that night, he threw himself huffily down next to Draco. 

“What’s up with you? Snape didn’t give you a hard time, did he?” 

Harry glared at the blonde boy, pointed to his mouth, then grabbed his throat. 

“He cut your tongue out?” Draco asked in horror. 

Theo snorted and plopped himself down across from Harry, “No, you idiot. He put an enduring silencing charm on him.” 

Harry pointed at Theo as if to say, ‘what he said!’. 

Draco sniggered, “How long does it last for?” 

“Anywhere from a day to a week,” Theo answered, “How quickly a person can shake it off depends on how stubborn they are, so this stubborn bastard might be talking again in a few minutes.” 

Harry nudged Theo in the ribs and glared at him. 

Theo chuckled, “Could make for an interesting few days anyway. Especially considering what we need to plan tonight.” 

Harry nodded. He pointed at Theo, himself, Draco and Blaise then made an elaborate hand motion. 

“Theo, what is he on about? You always were the best at charades,” Draco said dryly. 

“He wants us to hang back in the common room tonight, and to get Lily through here,” Theo said. 

“He has to get Moon on board, only he can go through his dorm room to get her,” Draco pointed out. 

Harry gave Theo an amused look, and Theo grinned, “That look said, ‘wow, how much of a dumbass is Draco’, am I right?” 

Harry nodded. 

Blaise snorted. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Harry’s room lately. I’m pretty sure I can retrieve Moon, don’t you worry yourself Drakey Poo.” 

Harry snorted silently, and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Theo said, leaning back in his armchair and looking at Harry. 

Harry raised his hands as if to say, ‘what?’ and Theo grinned cheekily, “Well, the sex could be interesting.” 

Harry laughed silently, and Draco made a face, “So crass, Theodore,” he said with a tut, but Theo just grinned shamelessly. 

* * *

Their planning session that evening was interesting.

When Lily walked into the room, she seemed different somehow. It was in the way she held herself; she walked with her head a little higher; her posture was a little more straight. She oozed confidence, which seemed to have come from her newfound purpose in life through her status as a Death Eater. 

“Now this I have got to see,” Lily said, stalking into the common room, “Is Harry Potter truly speechless?” 

Harry glared at her in response, and she grinned, “Well, it’s about time you learned when to zip it,” she added, running her fingers along his lips and zipping them shut without an incantation or a wave of her wand. 

Theo saw the look in Harry’s eyes and snorted, “Mate, if that turns you on, I don’t even want to know how much of a masochist you are.” 

“You ought to know, Theo,” Lily said, dropping onto an armchair by the fire and catching Blaise looking at her, “Would you like a picture, Zabini? It would last longer.” 

Blaise just smirked, “Being a Death Eater suits you.” 

Lily hummed, “Not having a bitch for a mother is freeing, that much is true. But my little show got overshadowed when Harry and his adoptive Daddy ripped a man apart and blew his head up.” 

Harry tried to open his mouth, but couldn’t.

Theo took some mercy on him, murmuring the counter curse with his finger against Harry’s lips.

He mouthed a thank you at Theo then a ‘sorry’ in Lily’s direction. 

“He said-” 

“Yes, I can lip-read, Theo,” Lily remarked. 

“Well, apparently Draco can’t,” Blaise drawled. 

“Oh shut up, Blaise,” Draco said, kicking the dark-skinned man from the sofa unceremoniously. 

Before a duel could break out, Harry stood up and shook his head. The simple, unspoken order was enough – silence fell. 

Harry conjured up a blackboard and wrote, “ _Plan – kill Hannah Abbott. Question is how?”_

“A curse,” Theo said. 

Lily nodded, “Something that can’t be traced back to you because otherwise, Snape will have no choice but to expel you.” 

“But something that will teach the Abbotts and their allies a lesson,” Theo mused. 

Silence fell for a moment, and Harry wrote, _“I should stick with my theme of killing people with karma.”_

Draco frowned, “How? She’ll be dying because her father funded the wrong people.” 

“So her death would have to involve money,” Blaise said. 

Theo’s eyes lit up, and he looked at Lily, “Gemino Curse.” 

Lily frowned, “What does that have to do with money? It duplicates items, doesn’t it? And isn’t it a charm, not a curse?” 

“The spell we are taught in school is a charm, yes,” Theo said, “But you can turn any harmless charm into a curse if you try hard enough. When I was younger, I was in Gringotts a lot because my father was involved with the goblins, normally in semi-illegal schemes but hey,” he shrugged, “And I know that Gringotts use the Gemino Curse for security. In vaults with high-value items, they use it to prevent theft – if someone touches the high-value object, then it duplicates indefinitely, drowning them in duplicates of the item they were trying to steal.” 

“Dark,” Blaise noted. 

“Well, yeah,” Theo agreed, “They’re Goblins.” 

Harry nodded and wrote, _“How do we use it to kill Hannah?”_

“I was getting to that part,” Theo said, “We give Lily a galleon and get her to modify it – change the dragons head to the Order of the Phoenix symbol.” 

Lily nodded, “Then we use a switching spell to swap it with some food Hannah has just eaten.” 

Theo smirked, “I love it when we think along the same lines. I can see why Harry’s into both of us.” 

Lily gave Theo a knowing look, “Hasn’t he told you, you’re his number one now?” 

Harry rolled his eyes, the two of them bickering was never going to end well. 

“Yes, apparently you want to move onto pastures new,” Theo said, eyeing her with amusement. 

Harry tapped the board irritably and glared at them.

The Ravenclaw girl smiled sweetly and continued with the plan she and Theo were concocting. 

“Hannah chokes and starts to cough up galleons, but they duplicate at such a rate that she dies before anyone can work out how to save her.” 

“And no one knows where the galleon came from or who put it inside her,” Blaise said with a nod, “Therefore making sure it doesn’t lead back to us.” 

“It’s fool-proof,” Draco agreed. 

“Of course it is, Moon and I came up with it,” Theo said smugly. 

Harry smiled slightly and clapped his hands together once, “ _Tomorrow?”_ he wrote. 

Lily pulled a galleon out of her pocket, “I’ll modify it tonight, but the switching spell will have to be very precise, and charm work isn’t my area of expertise.” 

“No, but it is mine,” Theo said with a smirk. 

_“Tomorrow then,”_ Harry wrote, “ _Great hall.”_

They all nodded, the plan agreed, all that was left was for them to get to work. 

* * *

The following day everyone had a great laugh at Harry’s expense.

Even Daphne found herself smirking when Tracey and Sophie were winding Harry up for losing his voice.

Harry took it in his stride and ignored Snape's satisfied smirk.

In Defensive Magic later that day, Pansy made a stupid comment. 

“How are you going to do magic if you can’t speak, Potter?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and mouthed something. 

“Theo, care to translate?” Draco drawled. 

“He said, I can do speechless and wandless magic, you silly bitch,” Theo said, without looking up from his work. 

Blaise choked on the exotic magical leaf he was chewing, Draco bit back a grin as he clapped him on the back. 

Pansy shrieked, “What?” 

“He didn’t say the silly bitch part, did he, Nott?” Bill asked from the front of the class. 

“No, but he _does_ think she’s a silly bitch. Don’t you, Harry?” 

Harry nodded his agreement and grinned at Bill. 

Bill shook his head in amusement, “Since you feel like being a show-off, Potter – go ahead, show us how you do magic with an enduring silencing charm on you.” 

Harry raised his wand, moved it circularly and thrust it upwards, conjuring a pretty impressive shield charm. 

“Nice,” Bill said with a nod, “Everyone else, take note. For the remainder of the lesson, I will be silencing you all and teaching you how to cast non-verbal spells.” 

Harry smirked triumphantly. 

“Potter – quit smirking, you’ll be learning how to cast a non-verbal Patronus.” 

‘Fuck’, Harry mouthed, making Bill grin a little wickedly. 

“Oh to be the Dark Lords favourite,” Theo murmured in Harry’s ear, grinning far too mischievously for his own good.

Harry kicked him under the table for good measure. 

* * *

At dinner that evening, it all kicked off.

Nobody was any the wiser until Hannah got up to leave the Hufflepuff table.

Theo, who was sitting next to Harry, flicked his wand under the table, whispered something and then carefully and slowly moved his wand in a very particular motion. 

With a gasp, Hannah grabbed her throat.

Susan stalled at her side, “Hannah, what’s wrong?” 

Hannah couldn’t speak, she tried, but only a choking, retching sound came out.

The scene was already gathering the students' attention, and some of the professors were rushing over to help her. 

“She’s choking!” Ernie MacMillan said, whacking Hannah on the back hard. 

This was exactly what Harry had wanted to happen. He watched as the golden galleon flew out of Hannah’s mouth, landing with a clatter on the hard stone floor.

Susan looked at her friend in horror, expecting her to be okay now, but she was still choking. 

“Professor!” Susan cried when McGonagall reached them, “What’s happening to her?” 

“She has been cursed,” McGonagall said, “Weasley, help her!” 

Bill was hot on McGonagall’s heels and granted; this was one factor that they had not considered. They hadn’t considered that Bill would save Hannah’s life. 

Theo tensed next to Harry, but Harry pressed his leg against the other mans, signalling that he wasn’t worried.

Bill cast a diagnostic charm on Hannah as her face went blue, she fell to her knees, her eyes bulging – Harry doubted there was anything that could be done to save her now.

Bill shook his head, and McGonagall looked at the girl in horror – some of the younger students were screaming or cowering in fear – it was undoubtedly causing the scene that it had been meant to. 

Hannah’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell to the ground with a clatter.

Susan screamed and dropped down next to her, “Hannah! Hannah!”

Bill gripped her shoulder, “She’s gone, Miss Bones.”

McGonagall was pale, and clearly in shock. She levitated Hannah’s body and instructed Sprout to transport it, and Susan to the hospital wing.

The head of house did so, with tears streaming down her cheeks – Harry imagined the last time they had witnessed something so horrific at Hogwarts (excluding Cedric’s death of course) would have been when Myrtle Warren had been murdered. 

The thought made Harry reach up to stroke Artemis’s head, she hissed happily, and Harry’s thoughts wandered back to second year, to the first time he had ever met Tom Riddle – he had thought that man was dead, that Voldemort was all that was left, but he had gotten it all wrong. Tom Riddle had said it to him plainly enough back then – _Voldemort is my past, my present and my future –_ they weren’t different people, they were the same, but Tom was Voldemort’s more humane counterpart. 

_“It is odd,”_ Artemis hissed in his ear, “ _The things you remember when you watch someone die.”_

Harry nodded; it was a strange little nugget of wisdom to come from a young snake who did not often say much. He supposed she had picked up on a thing or two from the nights he spent telling her about the Tales of Beedle the Bard in parseltongue. 

The hall was in shock, Snape got to his feet and demanded that everyone go to their common rooms.

Ginny walked over from the Gryffindor table and picked up one of the galleons that Hannah had choked up. She turned it over, examining the Order of the Phoenix symbol. Her eyes burned as she looked up at Bill, “You did this!” 

Bill raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, “Me?” 

“All of you!” Ginny shrieked, grabbing her brothers arm and yanking up his sleeve. 

Bill didn’t bother as some of the younger students who hadn’t seen the mark for themselves reeled back in horror. 

She thrust the galleon into his hand, “The symbol of the Order of the Phoenix! Right after Hannah’s father goes missing? You killed her to scare us, to show us what happens to those who defy you? Well it’s not going to work,” she hissed. 

Neville stood up and grabbed her hand, “Ginny, not here.” 

“We will keep fighting,” Ginny said, “We will fight until we die and if that’s at your hand, or Charlies, then so fucking be it, Bill!” 

“Miss Weasley,” Snape drawled, “I do not appreciate you speaking to my staff with such vulgar language. Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention this evening, with Professor Carrow.” 

Ginny looked warily up at the Head table, “Which one?” 

Snape smirked wickedly, “Amycus.” 

Ginny’s eyes widened, and Bill looked down to hide the look in his eyes.

Despite their differences, Ginny was still his sister, and if Amycus’s reputation was anything to go by, that didn’t bode well. 

“And you’re just going to let this happen?” Ginny asked, taking a step closer to her brother, “Because that’s who you are now, isn’t it? The kind of person who hurts innocent people, or at the very least the kind of person who stands by and lets someone else do it.” 

“No, Ginny,” Bill said, gently prying his arm from her grasp, “I am the same person I was three months ago before all of this kicked off, but you can’t see that. Can you? All you see is light and dark, good and evil, and that’s not the way the world is split anymore. Maybe one day you will grow up and realise that before it’s too late.” 

Without another word, Bill strode up to the Head table and began to talk to McGonagall and Snape in undertones.

In the chaos of everyone leaving, Harry slipped on his invisibility cloak and listened in to the conversation. 

“It was a Gemino Curse,” Bill told them. 

McGonagall’s eyes widened, “She choked on galleons that were duplicating inside her throat?” 

Bill nodded, “There was nothing I could do. The counter curse would have stopped the objects from duplicating, but I wouldn’t have been able to remove the galleons she had ingested – it is a vicious way to kill someone.” 

“I expect that was the point,” McGonagall said tartly, “Your sister was correct, Miss Abbott's death was a warning.” 

“Is that an accusation, Minerva?” Snape asked, looking her dead in the eye. 

McGonagall scoffed, “Of course it was an accusation, Severus! This school is run by Death Eaters now, and we are all aware that You-Know-Who is in control, through you.” 

“Regardless, I would not murder a student in my care,” Severus said evenly, “I would have hoped that after all of these years, you would know that.” 

McGonagall tore her eyes away from his, “And you, Weasley? You were such a good student, how you ended up involved in all of this baffles me.” 

“I ended up involved in all of this because what the Dark Lord is doing makes sense,” Bill said honestly, “I believe in the world he wants to form – a world where we can live freely, where magic can be what it used to be before the Muggles forced us into hiding. You are an educated woman; you have travelled, you have seen the way magic flourishes in countries where it can be used freely.” 

McGonagall pursed her lips but said nothing. 

“That’s what I want,” Bill said, “Not for innocent school girls to be murdered and certainly not for my sister to assume that I am the culprit. I am sorry if I am overstepping Severus, but you cannot allow my sister to be left alone with Amycus Carrow in detention. His reputation proceeds him, and regardless of the sides we are on in this war, if he touches her, I will do worse to him than Augustus Rookwood did to Stuart Fawley.” 

Severus looked distastefully at Bill, “I will instruct the Head Girl to proceed over the detention.” 

Bill laughed, “The Head Girl? The Head Girl who just forced her mother to overdose and took the Dark Mark?” 

“Lillian Moon?” McGonagall asked in horror, “No, she is such a good girl.” 

Severus and Bill’s eye met; it was clear they were both thinking the same thing. 

“No, Minerva, she isn’t,” Bill said, “But I don’t think that she did this either.” 

“I understand why the Dark Lord gave the order,” Severus admitted, “From my understanding, Howard Abbott funded the Order of the Phoenix and to cement his control, the Dark Lord is, of course, clamping down on anyone aiding that organisation.” 

“Then why pray tell, Severus, am I still alive?” McGonagall asked curtly. 

“Because you are an incredibly powerful and talented witch, Minerva,” Severus replied simply, “The Dark Lord has the utmost respect for you. He would find it very difficult to kill you, which is why he will not do so needlessly.” 

“You talk about him as if he is merciful,” McGonagall said scornfully, “He gave the order to kill an innocent girl because of something her father did. If we were all punished for our father's sins, I think this hall would be half empty.” 

Severus said nothing. 

“Who did he give the order to?” McGonagall asked. 

“I do not know,” Severus replied. 

“Neither do I,” Bill admitted, “He would have only trusted his most loyal advisors with that information, and I certainly don’t fit the bill.” 

“Nor do I anymore,” Severus said dryly. 

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that they both knew who it had been but that they were protecting him. 

“There will be no proof nonetheless,” Bill said, “The nature of her death ensures it.” 

“Indeed,” Severus said, his eyes scanning the hall as if he knew Harry was there, “Whoever did this planned it out methodically to ensure that they would not be discovered.” 

McGonagall sighed heavily, “I must go to the hospital wing and comfort the girl's friend. Severus, you will be questioned about this by the Prophet, regardless of who runs it these days. You must make a statement, and you must keep it impartial.” 

Severus bowed his head, “Very well,” he said, signifying the end of their conversation. 

* * *

Lily was on her way to Potions the following morning when a firm voice said, “Miss Moon, a word, please?”

She frowned and turned around, “Okay, Professor Weasley.”

Bill opened the door to a store cupboard, and Lily raised an eyebrow at him as she stepped inside, “And here was me thinking you were happily married.”

“I am happily married,” Bill said, shutting the door behind him and lighting up the room with a click of his fingers, “And even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t sleep with 17-year-old girls under my care.”

Lily gave him a pointed look, “Then I assume this cosy little chat has something to do with the fact I’ve been asked to supervise your sister's detention this evening?”

Bill sighed and ran his fingers through his long hair, “Yes. While she may be on the wrong side at the moment, she is still my sister, and she is only 16. Amycus has a reputation and if he lays a finger on her…” he shook his head, “So don’t let that happen.”

Lily scoffed in disbelief, “You really missed the boat when I killed my mother the other night, didn’t you? Do you think I did that because she was a Muggle, or because I hated her?”

Bill didn’t answer.

Lily took a step closer to him, aware of the heat building in her hands as she lost control of her temper. “I was raped when I was ten years old, and again when I was thirteen – if you honestly think I will let that bastard touch your sister and keep his dick attached, you have another thing coming.”

Lily prodded him in the chest irritably, leaving a small burn mark in his shirt. Then she yanked the door open and stalked away. 

* * *

When Lily stormed into Potions, she was in a foul mood – Daphne, her partner, couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Bad morning?” 

“Well, one of our classmates was horrifically killed yesterday,” Lily countered. 

“Yes, but somehow I get the impression that’s _not_ what your bad mood is about,” Daphne said. 

Harry, who was sitting at the table behind them with Draco, kept his gaze down and tried to look busy as he strained his ears to listen in on the conversation. 

“You don’t think dramatic deaths bother me?” Lily asked sarcastically. 

“I don’t get the impression that they do, no,” Daphne said, smiling sweetly at the Ravenclaw, “Call it a hunch.” 

Lily laughed under her breath, “What about you? I don’t see you looking particularly traumatised?” 

“I didn’t care for Hannah Abbott much,” Daphne remarked, “I feel worse for her friend, Susan.”

“Whose she, your girlfriend?” Lily asked in a teasing, but also rather vindictive way.

“Childhood best friend actually,” Daphne quipped, “And that insult was so second year, Moon.”

Lily looked like she was trying to hide an amused smile, “Pity. I hear Susan is into girls. You could have comforted her,” she teased.

“Aw Moon, are you flirting with me? That’s cute,” Daphne shot back in response.

Harry grinned in amusement and looked back down at his textbook.

“Potter, are you enjoying our conversation? We can talk louder, so you don’t have to strain your ears,” Daphne said, flipping her ice blonde hair around and smirking at Harry.

Harry raised an eyebrow in response because he still couldn’t speak. 

Lily snorted and turned around too. She had been teaching him sign language over the past couple of days, so he held out his hands and signed, _"Are you okay?"_

Lily smiled slightly and said, “I’m fine. Bill Weasley just asked me a stupid question so I might have accidentally singed him a little.”

Harry snorted silently and signed, “ _Why?_ ”

“I’m supervising his sister's detention tonight,” Lily said in an undertone, “And we all know Amycus Carrow’s reputation.”

Harry nodded, his eyes darkening. He signed, “ _She doesn’t deserve that_.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Lily agreed, “Bill seemed to be under the impression I would let that happen. Rest assured, he believes that no longer.”

Harry smirked and signed, “ _You’re awesome._ ”

Lily grinned, “I know I am.”

“Potter, Moon,” Slughorn said loudly, “Back to work, no talking!”

“It was sign language actually, sir,” Lily spoke up.

Slughorn smiled fondly at her, “Then no sign language unless you were giving Mr Potter potions instructions?”

With a sweet smile, Lily said, “Of course I was, sir.”

Slughorn humphed in amusement, and they all got back to work.

Harry thought that would be the end of Daphne and Lily's conversation because the two girls didn’t tend to speak much. 

When Daphne moved a little closer, Harry leant forward, straining to hear what was being said.

“You’re not still messing around with him, are you?”

“No,” Lily murmured, "But I did learn a valuable lesson - never make the same mistake twice."

“Unless he’s hot,” Daphne said, referring of course to Harry. 

This made Harry grin and drop too many lacewing flies into his potion, causing it to blow up in Draco’s face. 

With a grimace, Harry brushed the ash off of Draco’s face and mouthed, ‘sorry?’ while Theo cackled a few tables away. 

*** TBC ***


	23. The System is Done For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny’s detention leads to a shock revelation…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Blood//Water by grandson.
> 
> Happy Wednesday, everyone! Today I have three chapters for you, was aiming for four, but it was a struggle to get them all edited in time. We will get to the Harry x Daphne in due course, I promise! 
> 
> PLEASE REMEMBER: This is a Dark!Harry fic, it's rated E, the tags and warnings clearly state rape/non-con - it's not a happy go lucky story, and chapter 24 reflects this with extremely dubious consent so if that is something you're uncomfortable with, hop off this train! :)

Harry spent that evening in the Slytherin common room since Lily was busy overseeing Ginny’s detention. Since he couldn’t talk, he was reading and using Theo as a convenient book rest. The other boy didn’t seem to mind much; he was playing chess with Tracey so every so often he would murmur an instruction to his pieces.

Draco was lying on the sofa with Blaise hovering above him trying to regrow his eyebrows.

“I don’t know if I can make them grow back overnight, Draco-”

“Try harder then!” Draco snapped.

Theo sniggered, and Harry bit his lip to hide his amused grin. Draco glared over at them, “Think it’s funny, do you? This is all your fault, Potter! If you hadn’t been so distracted by Daphne saying you were hot, I would have eyebrows right now!”

From her perch by the fire, Daphne chuckled, “So easily distracted, Potter.”

Harry smirked and conjured writing in the air, ‘You are a worthwhile distraction.’

Tracey shot Daphne a knowing look, but the blonde girl just smirked, “It would take more than you to handle me.”

Theo raised his hand, “Definitely up for a threesome.”

“Greengrass’s don’t sleep with their cousins, Theodore.”

Harry laughed silently.

Theo pretended to be offended as he flicked one of his captured chess piece in Daphne’s direction.

She caught it deftly and smirked at Harry, “But since you were so easy to distract earlier, I suppose you aren’t strictly into dick now?”

Theo snorted but bit back a comment which was rather unlike him. Blaise sniggered and nearly messed up Draco’s eyebrow, causing many curse words to tumble out of the blonde boy's mouth.

“Come on, Daphne,” Theo said, grinning at his cousin, “If it came down to it, Harry would pick me.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow, “Is that true, Potter?”

Harry grimaced and shot Theo an apologetic look. The other boy slapped his hand against his chest and pretended to have a heart attack, “You wound me, Harry, you fucking wound me!”

Harry grinned and kicked him, “Shut up,” he mouthed, smiling fondly at his friend.

Theo smiled back at him the same way, and Daphne shook her head in amusement. She closed her book and slipped it into her bag, walking towards the dorm room corridor via the sofa that Harry and Theo occupied.

When Daphne got there, she leant over the sofa and kissed Harry on the cheek, “You would pick him, a thousand times over, and do you know what? It’s actually a little endearing.”

Harry gave Theo a bemused look, and Theo joked, “See? She does want a threesome.”

“Idiot,” Harry mouthed, laughing silently at Theo’s antics.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the dungeons, Lily was having an incredibly dull evening supervising Ginny’s detention. At first, Amycus had been on his best behaviour, so Lily had propped open a book on her lap. Things took a slightly more sinister turn after a couple of hours though, and the first alert Lily had was a sharp intake of breath from Ginny.

Ginny had been forced to relinquish her wand at the beginning of her detention, so if Amycus did anything to her, there was very little she could do to defend herself. Lily glanced up subtly, watching as Amycus walked past Ginny and brushed his hand up her leg.

Lily’s blood boiled and that tell-tale burning sensation began in her fingers. She raised a hand from her book and calmly flicked a finger in Amycus’s direction. He hissed in pain and gripped his arm, frowning at the small burn mark that had appeared there. Amycus looked over at Lily, but her wand was still on the desk in front of her, and she looked utterly absorbed in her book.

With a frown, Amycus left Ginny alone for a little longer then tried the same trick again. Once more, he was burned, and this time, he caught Lily’s finger twitching.

“Do not overstep your bounds, girl,” Amycus hissed.

Lily looked up, innocently, “What, little old me?”

Amycus was less than impressed, “You are not invincible just because the Dark Lord appears to like you.”

Lily leant back in her chair, “He does like me, doesn’t he? I don’t know how much he likes you though, or your sister. He called her a hag, did you know that?”

Amycus’s nostrils flared, and Lily smiled sweetly.

“You can’t come in here and undermine me,” Amycus said, grabbing Lily by the shoulder, “You’ve barely had your foot in the door.”

Lily raised her left arm and grabbed Amycus, as she did so, her sleeve slipped – revealing her dark mark. The older Death Eater hissed and cried out in pain as Lily channelled her magic, leaving him with a pretty nasty burn mark on his wrist, “Leave the poor girl alone, Amycus.”

“The Dark Lord will hear about this!”

“Uh-huh,” Lily said calmly, “Do I look worried?”

Amycus glared at her then spat on the ground before her, “Dismissed! Both of you!”

Lily got to her feet and opened the door for Ginny, with a sarcastic wave to Amycus, she walked out of the classroom after the redheaded girl.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Ginny said, “I can fight my own battles.”

“Well you didn’t have a wand to fight that one,” Lily said, holding Ginny’s wand out to her.

With a suspicious look, Ginny yanked it out of her grasp.

Lily rolled her eyes, “Walk you up to the towers?”

“Don’t you need to go down?” Ginny asked irritably.

“To hell? That’s a little dramatic.”

“I meant to the Slytherin common room but if that’s how you want to take it,” Ginny said with a sarcastic smile.

“Why would I be going to the Slytherin common room?” Lily asked calmly, “Do you presume that you have to be in Slytherin to be an evil Death Eater?”

Ginny scoffed, “Not exactly, but you are sleeping with the Slytherin Head Boy, aren’t you?”

“Harry? Uh, no,” Lily replied, “Is that what this is about? Jealousy? Because that’s over and done with. Besides, he’s into guys this month.”

Ginny frowned, “Malfoy?”

Lily snorted, “No, Theo - he still has taste.”

Ginny fought back a laugh, and Lily noticed.

“Why do you care about me anyway?” Ginny asked, “What does it matter to you if he…did anything to me? Did Bill set you up to this?”

“Yes, Bill set me up to this but I would have cursed him for trying to touch you regardless,” Lily said matter of factly, “Not all Death Eaters are evil, not all of us even practice dark magic – your brother, for one.”

Ginny frowned, “Bill?”

“No, he is quite capable of dark magic, but he only uses it for good,” Lily said with a shrug, “Quite a paradox. I can see what his stunning French wife sees in him.”

Ginny snorted in amusement.

“But your other brother, Charlie?” Lily said, “He’s a lover, not a fighter. He’s more preoccupied with his dragons and his boyfriend than he is in scheming.”

“Sounds like Charlie,” Ginny agreed sadly.

Lily noticed and cocked her head at Ginny, “You know, I don’t quite get you.”

Ginny looked over at her, “What do you mean?”

“You’re strong, independent,” Lily said, “You’re one of the guys. You feel like you have to be with the way you grew up, surrounded by boys.”

Ginny nodded.

“So why would you feel so insecure that you felt you needed to dose Harry with a love potion?” Lily questioned.

“I don’t know,” Ginny admitted, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Did you always like him?” Lily asked curiously.

Ginny’s frown deepened. “I did when I was young, typical childhood crush, I suppose. But then I moved on. I dated a few other people, and I thought I was over it.”

“So, what changed?” Lily asked curiously.

Ginny opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to form an answer.

“I mean, was it your idea or someone else’s?” Lily prodded.

“I think it might have been my…” Ginny frowned, “My mums, but it’s sort of blurry.”

“Blurry?” Lily asked sharply, “Like she obliviated you?”

“No,” Ginny snapped defensively, “No, why the hell would she do that?”

“I don’t know, Weasley but look at this logically for a minute,” Lily said, grabbing Ginny by the arm and pulling her into a secret passageway behind a mirror.

“You have six siblings, one of them is working for the Dark Lords ministry, two of them are with the Dark Lord, another one is shacking up with Granger in a tent somewhere, and the other two are doing what?”

“Hermione is with the twins,” Ginny corrected, “I don’t know where Ron is, he went off on his own.”

“Dead probably then,” Lily said dryly.

“He’s my brother!”

“And? He’s probably still dead,” Lily said, frowning at the Gryffindor girl, “Haven’t you stopped to think why all of your siblings seem to turn on your mother?”

“Honestly, no. She’s our mother; she wants to protect us. She just wants the best for us,” Ginny replied in an almost robotic monotone.

Lily shook her head, “No…that doesn’t swing it for me. Listen, just hear me out – can we talk to someone you trust about this? Just to make sure you are not under any charms, and that no changes have been made to your memory.”

“Someone I trust? In this school?” Ginny scoffed.

“You trust McGonagall, don’t you?”

Ginny paused, “I…well, yeah.”

“Then we’ll talk to her together tomorrow morning,” Lily said, “And if I’m wrong, you can announce to the entire school that I’m a Death Eater.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at the Head Girl, “Are you really You-Know-Who’s favourite?”

Lily shrugged, “I intrigue him and when someone intrigues him, that can go two ways – they either end up in his favour, or they end up dead. I intend to make good of the situation and not end up in a casket.”

* * *

The air in McGonagall’s office was tense. Lily leant against the door with her arms crossed, and Ginny was sitting across from her Head of House. The older woman had just had a look into Ginny’s memory and had cast a complicated spell that checked if she was under the influence of any mind-altering potions or spells.

McGonagall tried and failed to cover up the shock on her face. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly, “You appear to be under the influence of a compulsion charm Miss. Weasley. From the strength, I would guess that it is linked to something on your person, something that you wear every day?”

Ginny looked down at her right hand – on her index finger was a ring, golden but old and tarnished.

“But I only wear this,” Ginny said, “It was my grandmother’s, my mum gave it to me before I started Hogwarts.”

McGonagall held out her hand, “May I?”

Ginny nodded and slipped the ring off. The moment she placed it in the palm of McGonagall’s hand, she frowned because all of a sudden, a haze lifted and everything felt clearer.

“No,” Ginny whispered.

McGonagall noticed the shift too. She cast a spell on the item, and it glowed purple, “Yes, it is a powerful, enduring compulsion charm, willing you to do the bidding of another.”

“My mother,” Ginny said, looking up at McGonagall in horror, “My mother asked me to get close to Harry, to make him fall in love with me, she had me brew a love potion last year!”

Lily stepped forward, “Are you okay, Ginny?”

“Okay?” Ginny shouted, pushing her chair back angrily and getting to her feet, “No, I’m not okay! The last two years of my life have been a lie! I never wanted Harry. I was falling in love with Neville then she told me that he wasn’t bloody good enough! She wanted me to make Harry fall for me so that the Weasley family could gain prominence again, that was why she wanted daughters, so she could marry them off into big families and make something of her shitty, fucking life!”

Lily grimaced, “Well, I mean – there’s not an easy way to take something like this, but Harry would understand because his whole life has been a lie.”

Ginny shook her head angrily, “Dumbledore paid her, he paid her to take Harry in, to get Ron to befriend him, to make me fall in love with him. She manipulated her children for money and power, who does that?”

“A lot of people, Slytherins mostly, but it doesn’t come as a surprise when they do it,” Lily mused.

“Miss Moon, I do not believe this is helping the situation,” McGonagall said curtly, “What do you wish to do about this, Miss Weasley? Do you wish to discuss this with your mother?”

“No,” Ginny said furiously, “I don’t want to look at my mother, let alone talk to her. I want my big brother, that’s all.”

McGonagall nodded, “I will fetch him right away. Until I get back, Miss Moon, please take care of Miss Weasley.”

“Of course,” Lily returned.

McGonagall left, and Ginny walked to the window, glaring out at the grounds furiously.

“Your whole life isn’t a lie, she just manipulated a couple of choices you might have made anyway,” Lily said, “There’s a way to come back from this. But for Harry, there wasn’t. Dumbledore did manipulate his whole life; he was the reason Harry was abused as a child, the reason he never knew the love of a parental figure. By the time Harry found out the truth, he was too far gone, but you aren’t.”

“Are you trying to recruit me or convince me not to join you?” Ginny asked in disbelief.

“Neither,” Lily answered, “It doesn’t make much of a difference to me whether you’re fighting opposite me or by my side, but I just thought you ought to know that you aren’t too far gone yet, not like Harry was.”

“Thank you, I think,” Ginny said, her gaze still on the grounds, “For everything.”

Lily squeezed her shoulder but said nothing. They fell into a comfortable silence as they waited for McGonagall to return with Bill.

* * *

At the end of Defensive Magic that day, Bill called, “Mr Potter – stay behind please, I need to have a word with you in my office.”

That caught Harry’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at Bill as they waited for the classroom to empty – Harry had been able to tell that Bill was distracted during that lesson, he hadn’t been his usual cheerful sarcastic self. Harry had doubted that it was for a significant reason though, until Bill called him into the office.

When Harry stepped inside, the door shut of its own accord. Bill lifted his wand, pointed it at Harry and muttered a counter-curse under his breath. Instantly, Harry felt the shift in magic, and when he sucked in a relieved breath, some sound actually came out.

“You know the counter curse?”

“Course I do, am I a bloody curse breaker or not?” Bill replied dryly.

“So you could have done that at any point over the last few days?”

Bill nodded and sat on his desk, looking at Harry warily.

“Why the fuck didn’t you then?”

“Because it was hilarious watching you learn sign language,” Bill said with a slight smile.

“Oh, fuck you,” Harry said, leaning against the door and crossing his arms.

“You’re going to be saying that again in a minute,” Bill said, rubbing his eyes, “Because this is a hell of a bit of news.”

“Spit it out then,” Harry said, watching the older man warily.

“I had to give Ginny one hell of an apology this morning, and I think you need to as well,” Bill said.

“What?” Harry snapped, “Why the fuck would I do that after what she did to me?”

“Because of this,” Bill said, slamming an old tarnished ring onto the desk, “This was our grandmother's ring, our mother give it to Ginny before she started Hogwarts and it has an insanely powerful compulsion charm linked to it. Do you know the last time Ginny can remember making a decision entirely of her own accord?”

Harry looked at Bill and shook his head.

“Her fourth year,” Bill said, his fury at his mother clear, “She kissed Neville in a secret passageway after a DA meeting. Then after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, they promised to write to each other, but that never happened because that summer, our mother decided that Neville Longbottom wasn’t good enough – Ginny had to fall in love with Harry Potter.”

“Shit.”

“You can say that again,” Bill agreed.

“I want to fucking kill your mother,” Harry growled.

“Get in line behind me, Charlie and possibly Ginny,” Bill said, his voice low and laced with fury.

“This means Hermione hasn’t done anything wrong as well, doesn’t it?”

Bill nodded, “If she survives being on the run, we owe her a damn good apology too.”

Harry sighed, “Where is she? With Ron?”

Bill shook his head, “No, she’s with Fred and George.”

“Fred and George?” Harry asked in disbelief, “On the run?”

“That’s what I said,” Bill muttered irritably.

“But Fred is a werewolf,” Harry reminded Bill.

“Oh,” Bill said sarcastically, “ _Now_ you’re worried about Hermione’s welfare?”

Harry frowned, he knew he sounded like a hypocrite but knowing the truth about Hermione had changed his perspective on things.

“Do you know what’s happening with all of your siblings?”

“More or less,” Bill replied, “Char is with us, obviously. Percy is still arse licking his way to the top at the Ministry. Fred and George have run away with Hermione and Ron is probably dead in a ditch somewhere since he decided to try to make it on his own in the wilderness. I don’t know if he’ll die of starvation or be mauled by a wild dog first.”

Harry snorted, “And how is Ginny? I mean, is she taking it okay?”

“Oh, she’s great,” Bill said sarcastically, “She got pissed, and now she’s passed out in my quarters. I’ve got Fleur waiting by her bed for the inevitable first hangover she’s going to have when she wakes up.”

“Well, once she’s gotten over the inevitable hangover and she’s in a fit state, let me know, and I will apologise to her,” Harry confessed, “Whether she takes that well or not… I don’t know.”

“No, neither do I,” Bill admitted, frowning over at Harry, “And Harry? One last thing.”

Harry looked up, “Yeah?”

“You killed the Abbott girl, didn’t you?”

“I was involved, but no, I didn’t kill her,” Harry answered honestly, “Her death sent out a message though, just as the Dark Lord intended.”

“She was an innocent schoolgirl,” Bill said, his cautious blue eyes on Harry’s, “If that’s the kind of collateral damage we’re dealing with here, I’m starting to doubt what I signed up for.”

“You’re one Unbreakable Vow too deep for that, Bill,” Harry reminded him, “If it makes you feel any better, I doubt it’s going to be a regular occurrence. Howard Abbott was the main financier for the Order of the Phoenix. An example had to be made.”

“Well let’s hope no further examples are needed in the future, shall we?” Bill said coolly, “It’s just a little close to the bone for me, Harry.”

Harry nodded, “It wasn’t an easy order for me to accept either, Bill. But I knew when I signed up for this that there were going to be good days and bad days – at the moment, it’s a whole heap of the bad ones.”

Bill sighed and gave him a nod, “You had better get going. I don’t want to make you late for Charms.”

Harry pushed himself off of the door, grabbing the handle and looking back at Bill, “Thanks, Bill and…I’m sorry, about Ginny.”

“Yeah, me too, Harry,” Bill said with a note of finality.

* * *

With his silencing charm lifted, Harry enjoyed the freedom of speech once more. He used it to speak to Padma Patil about Lavender's situation and her ‘neutral’ family.

Lily had let her into the Head Common Room via her bedroom, which linked up with the Ravenclaw Common Room. 

Padma sat in an armchair by the fire with a cup of tea in her hands – her dark, brown eyes surveyed Harry but with interest rather than fear. If he was honest, this was the real reason that Harry liked Ravenclaws. They did not fear the unknown; they were curious until they had a reason to be scared.

“How is Lavender coping with the death of her scumbag of an Uncle?” Harry asked after a long minute of silence.

Padma raised an eyebrow at Harry, “Do you think I care? Lavender is my sister's friend, not mine.”

“You have more taste than Parvati, then,” Harry said with a slight smile.

Padma scoffed, “Parvati cares about fitting in and being popular more than I do. She became friends with the other Gryffindor ‘it’ girls to blend in with that crowd. She shunned our childhood friends the moment she was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, “Unlike you.”

Padma shrugged, “We grew up very close to Parkinson Manor, and unlike my sister, I didn’t start treating Pansy like the enemy when the hat decided we didn’t belong in the same house.”

“Different with Slytherin and Gryffindor though, isn’t it?” Harry mused, “Old rivalries and all that.”

“Stupid rivalries,” Padma argued.

Harry nodded, “Oh, entirely. Look at Lavender, her family is irrevocably linked to Slytherin families, but she refuses to admit that.”

“All of the supposedly neutral families have mixed with traditionalist families at some point,” Padma said offhandedly, “Where do you think their fortune tends to come from?”

Harry chuckled, “They rewrite their family history though, don’t they? They pretend not to know about the parts they feel are shameful.”

Padma leant back and sipped her tea.

Harry continued, “Not like your family, you are incredibly open with your family affairs. It’s well-known that you and Parvati are half-bloods, after all.”

Padma nodded and set her teacup down, “And I am not ashamed of my muggle-born father, not in the slightest.”

“And I am not ashamed of my muggle-born mother,” Harry countered, “But this isn’t a conversation about our blood status, I don’t care about that.”

“You care about getting the Browns under control,” Padma said sagely.

“Precisely,” Harry agreed, “And you seem to be the person who can tell me how to do that.”

Padma watched him for a moment, her eyes on his, “It’s simple – you go straight to the head.”

“Kevin Brown?” Harry asked with interest, “Laurel and Lavender’s father?”

Padma nodded, “You said it yourself in the great hall when Lavender confronted you. Laurel and her Death Eater husband regularly visit Brown Castle with their son, Caius. Kevin loves both of his daughters, and he loves his grandson – he doesn’t care about their loyalties which in my opinion does not make them very neutral at all.”

“And it also makes Kevin the key, you’re right,” Harry said with a nod, “I’ll arrange a visit. Thank you for your assistance, Padma.”

Padma bowed her head, “You are welcome, Harry.”

“And of course, I have to ask where your family’s loyalties lie?” Harry asked. This time he surveyed her with interest.

The question did not faze Padma; she merely acted as if she had expected him to ask it.

“Do you have a use for us?” Padma asked calmly.

Harry decided that honesty was the best policy with a logical Ravenclaw like Padma. He shook his head, “Honestly? No. Your family aren’t crucial to our cause; we are interested in Britain, not taking over the world and your family have far more hold in India than they do here.”

Padma nodded, “We are more than happy to focus on our Indian business and leave the Traditionalists to their own devices. Since my branch of our family emigrated to England back in the 1950s, we have always tried our best to refrain from involving ourselves in British politics.”

“That’s fine by us,” Harry said honestly, “But we would appreciate a show of loyalty, to nudge some of the other neutral families more than anything else. You don’t need to make an oath or anything like that, but if you could subtly support us, then we would appreciate it.”

Padma smiled, “I will speak to my mother. She is the representative of the Shafiq family in this country, and as such, she makes the decisions. I expect we could come to an agreement though – perhaps a trade deal?”

Harry smiled back at her, “I think the Dark Lord will be amenable to that. If you were able to aid us in convincing the Greengrass family to join us then it would go a long way in showing your support…Greengrass Shipping is a major partner of your families company, isn’t it?”

“They are our largest partner certainly,” Padma agreed, “My grandfather and Daphne’s agreed that it would serve our families better to work together than to be in direct competition. I believe that we now hold around 80% of the trade deals with wizarding governments. But Daphne and her father are very alike, and if you know Daphne Greengrass as well as I do, then you know the girl isn’t for turning.”

Harry chuckled, “Indeed,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips, “I aim to change that.”

“Good luck,” Padma said, smiling fondly at Harry before making her exit.

* * *

Days passed and nobody side hide nor tail of Ginny. Harry presumed she was having some sort of mental breakdown about the whole thing, which didn’t seem her style. He had voiced this opinion to Theo late one night. He had said, “I didn’t have a breakdown when I found out.”

Theo had rolled over in bed, raised an eyebrow at him and pointed out, “You killed Albus Dumbledore in cold blood then decided to become a Death Eater without giving it so much as 24 hours to sink in.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that, “True,” he’d been forced to admit, much to Theo’s amusement.

All the same, as more time passed, Harry began to wonder if Ginny would be able to get over what her mother had done. A few days after Bill had told Harry, he caught him having a worried, whispered conversation with Neville who was frowning and looking at the older Weasley in shock. He guessed that was Bill’s last-ditch attempt to bring Ginny out of whatever depression she had sunk into – telling Neville the truth about what had happened and hoping that he believed him.

Harry put it out of his mind and tried to tell himself that he didn’t feel guilty and that he wasn’t worried about Ginny, but he knew it was a lie. Despite the fact he wasn’t at all interested in her romantically, she was still his friend, and a part of him wondered if, unlike Ron, that had been real for her.

“You seem deep in thought.”

Harry looked up, past Theo, to check the time on the clock behind him, “Yeah, I have a meeting with Kevin Brown tonight.”

Theo snorted, “Does Kevin Brown know this?”

“No, he thinks his son-in-law is visiting,” Harry said, shooting Theo an amused smile, “Cadmus agreed to get me in the door but he made it clear that I’d have to convince Kevin for myself.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” Theo mused.

“And you are particularly persuasive,” Draco pointed out, dropping down next to Harry.

“You got the Shafiq’s to sign a very favourable trade deal with us,” Theo agreed thoughtfully.

Harry smiled slightly, “Ah, Padma didn’t need convincing. She’s sensible; she knows we’ve all but won this war and between her family and the Greengrass’s, they control trade between the UK and Asia. They want to keep us sweet so that when the dust settles, trade continues peacefully between the two regions.”

“You have a fantastic grasp on politics these days,” Draco said, casting a glance over Harry, “Pyrites must be a good teacher.”

“He is,” Harry said with a fond smile, “But he just taught me the politics and what matters. You’re the one who told me who everyone was. You’re the one who knows all of their secrets.”

Draco chuckled, “You can thank my father for that.”

“Lucius Malfoy – the biggest bitch amongst the Death Eaters,” Theo teased.

Draco shot Theo an exasperated look, “He’s a politician, knowing things means that he can blackmail people.”

“And he’s also a gossip, let’s be real,” Harry said, pushing himself to his feet

“Fair point,” Draco admitted, “Do you want back-up?”

Harry thought about that for a moment – realistically he didn’t think he needed it. Kevin Brown wouldn’t be that difficult to handle, and Cadmus would be with him, after all. But there was the possibility that Kevin had allies and that Cadmus was double-crossing them, so Harry nodded, “Yeah, Draco. You good to go?”

Draco got to his feet and tucked his wand away, “Yeah.”

Theo got up too, but Harry stopped him with a shake of the head, “Draco and I will go this one alone.”

Theo raised an eyebrow.

Harry stepped forward and murmured, so only Theo could hear, “There’s a reason the Dark Lord doesn’t want Death Eaters to get involved with each other. It’s because, in situations like this one, they could do stupid things to protect each other so stay here.”

When Harry drew back, Theo nodded. He didn’t talk-back, he didn’t ask Harry sarcastically if that was an order, he just nodded and sat back down.

With one last apologetic look to the dark-haired boy, Harry left the common room with Draco.

“What did you say to him?” Draco asked when they reached the entrance hall.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Harry replied.

Draco rolled his eyes, “I knew that would be your answer. You do realise that Theo actually cares about you, don’t you?”

Harry said nothing.

“This is the closest to a relationship I’ve ever seen him get,” Draco continued while they walked through the darkened grounds.

Still, Harry said nothing.

“He’s falling in love with you, and you’re using him.”

Harry scoffed, “You’re hardly one to talk, Draco. Have you ever been with anyone for the right reasons? You were with Pansy because your father wanted a marriage contract to be drawn up, but her father insisted that she be given free will. You were with Theo for what? To fulfil a need because you can’t admit that you’re gay?”

“Coming from you?” Draco asked in disbelief, “You’re using Theo too.”

“I’m not using Theo,” Harry snapped, they had reached the gates, “I care about him; that’s why I didn’t bring him along tonight.”

Draco’s eyes softened, “Then why not just admit that?”

“Because of what the Dark Lord will do if I admit that,” Harry said, meeting Draco’s eye, “So let him believe it’s stupid and pointless for a bit longer, okay?”

Draco nodded, “Okay.”

Harry took a deep breath and shut his eyes, in preparation to apparate to Cumbria for his crucial meeting with Kevin Brown.

“It will be fine,” Draco’s voice said, and Harry relaxed when he felt his friend's hand grip his shoulder.

Harry opened his eyes, immediately seeing Draco’s concerned grey ones, “Kevin Brown is a follower, not a fighter. Trust me; it won’t take much to convince him.”

Harry nodded and looked up at the night sky, “Let’s go then.”

* * *

Cadmus met them by the gatehouse and granted them access into Brown Castle. The Brown family were still wealthy, but nowhere near as influential as they had once been in the North of England. The Nott family, who were Yorkshire based, had swallowed up much of the smaller families properties over the years.

“As I said the other day, I will grant you an audience, but I’m staying out of it from that point onwards,” Cadmus said.

Harry was only half-listening; he was far more interested in the castle before them. Draco gave him a strange look as if to ask what his fascination with wizarding architecture was about, but Harry ignored him. It had nothing to do with architecture, but everything to do with strategy.

“Knowing how well-fortified our potential enemies homes are is useful, Draco,” Harry murmured in the other man's ear.

Realisation shone in Draco’s eyes, and he gave Harry a small nod.

“Thank you, Cadmus,” Harry said, returning his attention to the imposing castle before them. It was a typical northern fortress, probably dating back to the wars between England and Scotland. Here in Cumbria, they were close to the border after all. The dark, rainy sky only made the fortress look all the more daunting.

All the same, Cadmus didn’t seem to be double-crossing them, so that was something. He led them into the castle through draughty stone corridors, reminiscent of those at Hogwarts, until they reached a small, ante-chamber that most likely led into the drawing-room.

Kevin Brown was sitting by the fire, watching the door as if he was expecting them. He was a middle-aged man with greying blonde hair and a figure that Harry guessed would once have been slim, but he was on the dumpy side now.

“When the wards alerted me that you had guests, I guessed that they would not be welcome ones,” Kevin said, his eyes meeting Cadmus’s, “But it was only a matter of time until you brought your brethren here.”

Harry took a step forward, “I am here to talk, Lord Brown, that is all. Once you have heard me out, I will take my leave.”

Kevin laughed, “Will you? Don’t your kind tend to slaughter the families of those who do not join them?”

“As far as I am concerned, you have joined us,” Harry said, “Your daughter has married well, she has given the Selwyn family a much-needed heir. That grants you protection.”

“But that protection does not extend to my wife’s family, clearly,” Kevin said coldly, “You ought to be grateful that Annabella is not here tonight.”

Harry shook his head, “With all due respect, your wife knows exactly what kind of man her brother was. If she chooses to mourn his death despite that, then that is up to her.”

Kevin rose to his feet, but if he had aimed to be imposing – he failed. He was barely taller than Harry, who smirked and took a step closer to the fire so that he could lean against the mantle, “You are a father, Lord Brown. You have two daughters – if Cadmus here treated Laurel the way that Stuart treated Reyna Rookwood, how would you react?”

Kevin’s jaw set and Harry gave a small nod, “You would want to rip him apart for hurting your little girl because regardless of what age they are now – both of those girls are still your little girls.”

Kevin didn’t argue, and Harry continued, “With Laurel’s loyalty, we are content to leave you and your wife, and Lavender to your own devices. If Lavender rebels with her fellow Gryffindors within the school, then that changes matters, but if you keep your heads down, then we will leave you in peace.”

At this, Kevin frowned, “You see us as a lost cause then? You think we are of no use to you?”

“We are looking for fresh blood to join our ranks,” Harry said, his eyes on the older mans, “Young men to become Death Eaters and replenish our ranks. You have done us a service with Laurel's marriage to Cadmus, but beyond making an advantageous match with Lavender, you are of no further use to us. You have daughters, not sons.”

Harry pushed himself off the mantle and walked away from Kevin, “This estate is splendid, and this fortress is truly something to behold, but it will fall into the Selwyn family upon your death with no male heirs to inherit.”

He was aware that he was taking a risk, by inciting anger in Kevin Brown, but thankfully, it worked.

“But you can change that,” Kevin said.

Harry smirked at Draco, then turned around, “Can I? I cannot magically grant you a son.”

“No,” Kevin agreed, “When I married Annabella, it was a good match. The Fawley’s are a fellow northern family, we thought it would strengthen the bloodline, but she could only give me girls, and after Lavender's birth, she was unable to have any more children.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, “And how can I help with that?”

“Because the Dark Lords plan is to carry on magical bloodlines, is it not?” Kevin asked, “Through marriage laws to muggle-borns, he aims to repopulate?”

Harry glanced at Cadmus, who looked apologetic.

“While Cadmus was not at liberty to discuss those plans, yes – that is correct,” Harry said, eyeing Kevin with interest, “But to be eligible, you have to be unmarried or widowed.”

Kevin smiled darkly, “I am sure an accident could be arranged.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief, “So you will swear your loyalty to the Dark Lord if he promises you a young, fertile Muggle-born to carry on your line? All to satisfy your pride, to keep your lands in the Brown family? It’s no wonder Lavender is so selfish and self-absorbed.”

“At the end of the day, Potter, all we can leave behind when we die is our name,” Kevin said, “That is our legacy. Without it, we have no legacy.”

Harry scoffed, but looked Kevin in the eye, “Swear your loyalty to the Dark Lord on the October moon and for the love of Merlin, get your youngest daughter under control and you will have your wish.”

Kevin’s eyes glinted with ambition. He bowed his head, “Thank you.”

With one final nod, Harry left the room with Draco hot on his heels. Cadmus followed them out, and as he escorted them from the castle, Harry apologised.

“I’m sorry that converting your father-in-law just effectively signed your mother-in-law's death warrant.”

Cadmus scoffed, “Annabella? That’s no sore loss; I can’t stand the bitch, and Laurel isn’t keen on her either. She was never the maternal type; house-elves practically raised Laurel and her sister.”

“Did you know he was such a dick?” Harry asked, gesturing back at the room they had left.

With a low chuckle, Cadmus nodded, “Of course I did. He’s a typical northerner; he’s terrified of dying without an heir and losing everyone he worked hard to keep. You know what it’s like up here, a family dies out and the Notts are right in there to seize their property.”

Harry didn’t know that, but Draco seemed to. The blonde boy nodded, “They’ve done it with a few families now. They picked up the Prince estate when Eileen married a muggle, and they have control over what used to be Black Manor too, don’t they?”

Cadmus nodded, “Yep, they seized it after Sirius Black went into Azkaban. The only person who would have fought them for it was Bellatrix and she was in prison too.”

They left the castle and Harry looked back with a frown, “From that shrewd display, I’m going to hazard a guess that Lavender being in Gryffindor is unusual?”

“She’s certainly the odd one out,” Cadmus agreed, “Her mother is a Fawley, and as you know, they are traditionally a Slytherin family.”

“And the Browns, as neutral as they claim to be, are of Ravenclaw stock,” Draco continued.

“Typical,” Harry said with a soft snort, “Ravenclaws, they act so high and mighty, but they’re just like Slytherins underneath it all.”

Draco gave Harry an amused look, “Are you suggesting we Slytherins don’t act all high and mighty?”

Cadmus chuckled, “He makes a point, Harry.”

Harry shot Draco a grin, “He does. Thanks for your help tonight, Cadmus.”

“You’re welcome,” Cadmus said, patting Harry on the back, “See you boys around.”

* * *

Theo forgave Harry for abandoning him, thanks to the excellent apology he had prepared. It was almost entirely physical, but Theo didn’t seem to care.

Harry was also in the Dark Lords good books for confirming the loyalty of two ancient families, and for securing the newly seized Voldemort-run ministry an excellent trade deal, thanks to the Shafiq family.

Less than 24 hours after Harry’s chat with Kevin Brown, Lavender was pulled aside by McGonagall and informed that her mother had died in a strange accident involving the lake on the land of Brown Castle. She had cried for an entire day then in no uncertain terms blamed Harry for her Mothers death.

Harry hadn't even looked up at her as he drawled, “If you are looking for someone to blame, then perhaps you should talk to your father. After all, he did seem more bothered about getting himself a young mudblood wife who would give him sons than he did about your mother who failed to give him an heir.”

Lavender had burst into tears and ran from the hall with Seamus. The next day neither of them had shown up to classes or for meals, and it became apparent that they had fled the castle. Harry suspected they would try and join up with the militant, revenge crazed Army of the Phoenix if they could.

*** TBC ***


	24. No Room for Heart and Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 2 of "Keeping Up with the Prewett-Weasley’s"!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> Top of the World by Greek Fire.
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> M/M smut scene   
> Graphic, rough M/F sex scene [EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT]

**_Meanwhile on “Keeping Up with the Prewett-Weasley’s”…_ **

****

When a knock sounded on the back door of the Burrow, Arthurs instant reaction was to be cautious. When he did the security checks and saw Percy at the door, his heart stopped for a moment. With every fibre of his being, he wanted to rip open the door and hug his son, but he knew that he couldn’t, he had to make sure that this wasn’t a trap.

Arthur took a breath and asked a question that only Percy would know the answer to. When he answered it correctly, Arthur unlocked the door and pulled it back, allowing Percy to walk into the kitchen.

“Percy-” Arthur began, reaching out to hug Percy.

Percy stiffened up immediately and pulled back, “I’m not here for social niceties, Dad. I’m here to find out what is happening to this family. Is it true? The rumours circulating the Ministry about Bill and Charlie being Death Eaters?”

Arthur sighed and bowed his head in a nod.

“And Mum? Is she fighting with Ron? Did she really leave?” Percy asked in disbelief.

“She didn’t leave, I told her to get out of my house,” Arthur said, getting his fight back, “When you were talking to people at the ministry, did you hear anything about your sister?”

Percy shook his head.

Arthur sighed, he sounded tired, “Your mother gave her a piece of jewellery enchanted with a powerful compulsion charm.”

Percy didn’t look like he believed his father, so Arthur finished, “She coerced Ginny into making a love potion and slipping it to Harry.”

Percy’s eyes snapped up, “What? Why?”

Arthur turned away from his son, “We have always had money problems, you know that. My brother, Bilius pilfered away his inheritance in a year, and that wasn’t chiefly because of his stupidity, it wasn’t a big inheritance.”

Percy frowned as his father spoke openly about something that had been a long-held secret in the family.

“Most of my father's money went on your Aunt Darcy’s dowry,” Arthur explained.

“Marrying his only daughter to the chief of the MacDougal family seemed like a good political move, and he was right, you know how dominant they are in Scotland.”

Percy nodded.

“Of course my eldest brother, your Uncle Charlie inherited everything, and for years he offered us money,” Arthur said with a sigh, “Your mother always said no. She said we would make our own way, that the Prewetts were an ancient, proud family and they didn’t need to accept Weasley hand-me-downs. Why she married me, I don’t know; she always viewed the Weasley’s as lesser than the Prewett’s.”

Percy frowned at his father. They had always argued because he felt his father was too ignorant, too weak, too much of a push-over. But he was starting to understand the reasons behind that.

“I allowed Charlus to put some money into trust funds, one for each of you,” Arthur confessed, “I did it behind your mothers back, but I wanted to make sure that if the worst happened to us, you and your siblings would have something to fall back on.”

Percy swallowed, he hadn't known that, and he suddenly felt a wave of gratitude towards his father.

“So you can imagine how angry I was when I found out that, having refused hand-outs from my family for years, your mother told me that Dumbledore had been paying her,” Arthur said, his tone changing.

“He paid her to talk about the platform loudly when she saw a young, lost looking boy trying to find the Hogwarts Express... He told her to ensure that Ron befriended the boy by sitting with him on the train, and I suspect Dumbledore did that to steer Harry in the right direction, to ensure he would be sorted into Gryffindor house.”

“So that he wouldn’t go dark,” Percy murmured, “That went well for Dumbledore.”

“I would hazard a guess that Harry found out the truth,” Arthur said, looking over at his son, “He would have been angry, and at the best of times, Harry acts rashly which would explain why he murdered Dumbledore.”

“It doesn’t excuse it though,” Percy cut in.

“No, it doesn’t,” Arthur agreed.

“So you kicked Mum out for taking money from Dumbledore?” Percy clarified.

“I told her to leave because she potentially ruined a young man's life and she claims she did it for money, but we could have gotten double what Dumbledore gave her if she had just allowed me to accept my brother's help,” Arthur said irritably.

“Whatever her real reasons for going along with Dumbledore’s plans, I expect they were far more sinister than financial gain.”

Percy shook his head in disbelief, “She was still your wife-”

“And she was shunning my sons,” Arthur snapped, “We had already lost you, and when Bill made a deal and joined the Death Eaters to stop them attacking his wedding, I understood but your mother couldn’t. Bill told us that Fleur was pregnant with twins and that he had done it to protect his family and your mother couldn’t even utter congratulations, she just wanted to disown him!”

“Bills going to be a Dad?” Percy asked. His voice was quieter all of a sudden.

Arthur sighed and pressed his fingers into his temple, “Yes, Fleur is due to give birth in March next year.”

“I’ve missed so much,” Percy realised.

Arthur looked his son in the eye, “Yes, you have. Fred and George left too, Fred was bitten by Greyback in battle, and your mother couldn’t understand that either. They left, with Hermione, not long before Ginny went back to school.”

Percy shook his head as he tried to process all of that information, “So Fred is a werewolf, Bill and Charlie are Death Eaters, and Mum and Ron are heading up the Army of the Phoenix? I mean…is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

“Your sister didn’t take the news well,” Arthur confessed, “Your mother lied to her and manipulated her. According to Bill, she had something of a breakdown, and she won’t leave her room in his quarters. She eats and drinks, so she’s keeping herself alive, but she won’t talk to any of us.”

Percy scoffed angrily, “How could you let this happen, Dad?”

“How could I let this happen?” Arthur asked angrily.

“I didn’t let anything happen, but in case you haven’t noticed Percy, we are losing this war!”

Percy opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it.

“And some of us have realised that,” Arthur said quietly, “It’s becoming clear that the only way to survive is to accept that. You work at the Ministry, don’t pretend you don’t know that. You may not have joined You-Know-Who, but by keeping your job there, you are not openly opposing him either.”

Percy sighed and sat down at the kitchen table, “I know that it seems that way. I did keep my job, and yes, I accepted the promotion they gave me when the rumours of Bill and Charlie being marked began to circulate.”

Arthur leant against the back of a chair, surveying his son with interest.

“But that doesn’t mean I condone everything that they are doing, Dad. I mean, I see it every day, I’m a part of it. They paint this picture that the Muggle-born Marriage Law will save wizardkind and that it’s merciful. Still, they don’t mention the dozens of Muggle-borns who are tortured and thrown in Azkaban every day for refusing to give their information to the Ministry.”

Arthur gripped the back of the chair tightly.

Percy looked down at his hands, “The next bill the Wizengamot are pushing through amounts to nothing less than kidnapping. They plan on using the magical charter that alerts us every time a magical child is born, and they will take babies away from muggle parents and place them with a reputable magical foster-family.”

Arthur grimaced and shook his head, “Bill and Charlie always talk about how he has a vision, a vision of a better world.”

“He does,” Percy agreed, “And in principle, I agree with his long-term goals but the short-term methods he’s using to achieve them…I just don’t know if I can get behind them.”

“I think it’s probably too late for that now, Percy,” Arthur said, a resigned tone to his voice.

Percy looked up at him, “So you aren’t fighting at all? You’ve just given up?”

With a sigh, Arthur sat down, “Yes. I have given up. He has people everywhere. From the moment Harry changed sides, the dominoes began to fall, more and more people and families have turned to his cause and far faster than they did in the last war too. It is time to accept that we have lost this war, Percy.”

Percy shook his head, “No, the light-”

“I don’t mean the light,” Arthur said, his voice cracking with emotion, “I mean this family.”

* * *

“You okay, princess?”

Hermione looked up from her book, “Hm?”

Fred smiled at her, “You’ve been reading that book for the last hour.”

She looked down at the drawing of the three brothers in “The Tales of Beedle the Bard”. Hermione tapped her finger against the parchment and sighed, “It’s this symbol. I have a feeling that it's important.”

Fred crossed the tent and hovered behind her, his breath hot on her neck, “That’s Grindelwald’s symbol.”

Hermione subconsciously leant back into his arms, “Grindelwald’s Symbol?”

“Mmhm,” Fred murmured, kissing her neck and grabbing a pencil from behind her ear, “Well, it’s close anyway. There was a ‘G’ on either side like this, and that line through the middle here? It was a wand in Grindelwald's symbol.”

Hermione watched as he sketched on top of the symbol. She looked at the faint pencil marks against the ink-drawn symbol.

“What does Grindelwald’s symbol have to do with the Tale of the Three Brothers?” She asked, eventually.

“I don’t know,” Fred admitted, “But I’m sure I’ve seen that symbol referenced before, maybe even in History of Magic when we were learning about Grindelwald.”

Something tugged at her, in the back of her head. Hermione bit her lip and looked at the symbol once more, “I remember something similar, but I can’t remember the details.”

“That’s not like you,” Fred noted.

“It was in fourth year,” Hermione said, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate, “I was more focused on reading up on how to keep Harry alive than I was on listening in History of Magic that year.”

The mention of Harry made the air in the tent tenser than usual. Fred and George were furious at him for what he had done to Hermione and Hermione mostly just got sad when she thought about him, unless she’d been drinking out of Fred and George’s hipflasks - the moonshine made her drunk, and that was when she let herself get angry.

Hermione sighed and let her head drop onto the table. Fred sat down opposite her and reached over, taking her hands in his own, “Maybe it’s in another book, one of the historical ones you brought?”

“I doubt it,” Hermione replied dryly, “There’s no new information, Fred. Every day the prophet is the same; it’s all propaganda and bullshit.”

“It’s not today.”

Fred and Hermione both looked up. George had just slipped into the tent with a pile full of newspapers.

“You said to look out for anything strange,” George said, his eyes on Hermione.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, did you find anything?”

George dropped a paper in front of her and pointed to the front page.

“Does that qualify as strange to you?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she looked upon the headline and the photograph of a young Albus Dumbledore with Gellert Grindelwald.

Fred peered over and whistled, “Man, it doesn’t surprise me that he was gay, but really, he was boning Grindel-”

“Fred,” Hermione muttered, whacking him in the arm without really meaning it.

George shot his brother a grin, “He’s got a point though, Mione. Dumbledore and Grindelwald, working together? I mean it’s a good thing he came to his senses.”

Hermione frowned down at the paper as she scanned the article, “We don’t know that he did, and Rita Skeeter wrote this article so I would take everything in it with a pinch of salt.”

“There’s that symbol again,” Fred pointed out, motioning to a necklace around the young Grindelwald’s neck.

“It keeps popping up,” Hermione said, running her finger over the photograph, “I can’t help but think it’s important.”

“What did you mean when you said we don’t know for sure that Dumbledore did see the error of his ways?” George asked, as ever he was the more perceptive of the boys.

Hermione bit her lip and got up, “I don’t know, it’s a hunch, maybe. But for Harry to kill Dumbledore…something must have happened-”

“Yeah, he went off his rocker-”

“Fred,” George muttered, elbowing his twin in the ribs.

Hermione looked up, “No. Harry must have had a reason, and if Dumbledore and Grindelwald were friends, then maybe he wasn’t as innocent as we all believed.”

She began to pace the tent, as she always did when she had an idea, “I mean if we look at it logically, the evidence suggests that he is misguided at best and evil at worst.”

Fred crossed his arms over his chest, “Go on?”

“He left Harry on the doorstep of his Aunt and Uncles house,” Hermione said, “The _doorstep,_ he didn’t even go inside. He left him there in October, with just a letter. I mean come on, you’ve heard your dad talk about that time. Even though Vol-”

“Don’t say it!” George snapped, “Remember what Charlie told us? The taboo?”

Hermione caught herself and nodded, “Sorry, habit. But really, even though You-Know-Who had supposedly been defeated, he still had so many followers out there. Anyone could have killed or kidnapped, Harry.”

Fred looked over at George, “Do you think we should tell her?”

George nodded and looked at Hermione.

“Tell me what?” Hermione asked warily.

“When we broke him out of the Muggles house the summer before your second year,” George began.

“He was in a bad way,” Fred finished.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “You mean…they…they _hurt_ him?”

Fred nodded, “They starved him, neglected him. I’m pretty sure his Uncle hurt him, physically.”

Hermione’s frown deepened, “Surely Dumbledore would have known that? I mean none of it makes sense! He didn’t stick up for Sirius; he just let him go to Azkaban without a trial. It’s like…”

“Like he wanted Harry to grow up alone and weak,” Fred finished.

Hermione looked up and nodded, “But that’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” George admitted, “I always got the impression that Dumbledore was out for himself. He gave off this kooky old man vibe, but it always felt like a mask.”

“Like how you two hide your Mensa level intelligence behind silly jokes and pranks,” Hermione said, a fondness in her eyes.

“Well, it takes one to know one, I suppose,” George said, “And with Dumbledore, something always felt off.”

“Especially during the Triwizard Tournament,” Fred said, a dark look in his eyes, “Any decent Headmaster would have investigated why the goblet of fire spat out Harry’s name and done whatever they could have to stop him from having to compete.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “I thought about that a lot in fifth year. I just…I’m starting to wonder if Dumbledore isn’t so different from Grindelwald. What if he just used Harry in his plan to defeat You-Know-Who? If Harry found out that Dumbledore had lied to him and betrayed him, then I can see why that would make him react in anger.”

“But to join the Death Eaters? Without even talking to you or Ron?” George said, “I know Ron’s a dick sometimes, but still, you were always like a sister to Harry, so why wouldn’t he talk to you?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, her eyes darkening, “I wish I did, but I don’t.”

Fred sighed and walked over, stopping inches away from her. He cupped her face in his hands and said, “Whatever the reason, he _did_ kill Dumbledore and then he switched sides. We can’t change that now, all we can do is stay alive and try to find these objects you’re looking for.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” George said, “I saw this photograph at the back of the paper. You know how you told us to look for any strange or really old family artefacts?”

Hermione looked up and nodded.

“Well there’s this,” George said, showing her the paper, “And it looked like the mark of Slytherin to me.”

“It is!” Hermione exclaimed, “And that’s Dolores Umbridge, how on earth did she get it?”

“No idea,” Fred pointed out, his hand dropping from her face.

George shook his head, “Me either. Are you ever going to tell us why it’s so important?”

Hermione sat down on the edge of one of the bunk beds. She let her head rest in her hands for a few minutes while she wrestled between telling them the truth and telling them a white lie.

Eventually, she replied, “I think it’s a Horcrux.”

“A what?”

“A piece of dark magic,” Hermione said, looking up at the twins, “The darkest magic. You-Know-Who has split his soul, and he has done it more than once. I think that locket contains a piece of his soul, which means that if he is killed, he can be brought back like he was before.”

The twins were silent as they let this sink in.

“So how do we destroy it?”

“We don’t,” Hermione said dryly, “Because it doesn’t matter. Destroying one won’t make a difference unless we destroy all of them. By now, Harry will have told You-Know-Who that I know about them so he will have gathered all of the ones he knows about and put them somewhere safe.”

Fred looked at Hermione in disbelief, “So he’s…”

“-invincible,” the twins said together.

“Essentially, yes,” Hermione answered, “Do you see why I have to be on the run now? I know his biggest secret which instantly puts a target on my head.”

“And let’s be honest, it means we can’t win this war,” George said quietly.

“Come on Georgie, don’t be like that-”

“George is right,” Hermione said, looking up at the boys, “We can’t win this war. But we can retrieve the locket and keep it for insurance. If we are caught, then we have leverage, something that You-Know-Who wants.”

“Hermione,” George said, shaking his head, “It’s not worth the risk.”

“He’s right, princess,” Fred said, sitting down next to Hermione on the bunk, “If we get caught trying to retrieve the necklace then we’re dead in the water. Aren’t we better to stick to the side-lines?”

“And do nothing?” Hermione asked coldly, “I can’t keep running! We need to do something, and at the very least if we had insurance, I would feel safer.”

“If you agree to let us go home, we’ll consider it,” George said, sitting down on Hermione’s other side.

“It’s too risky, I’ve told you, they will have people watching the Burrow,” Hermione said, she sounded tired, as if she had said the same thing a thousand times already.

“I know it’s a risk, but is it any riskier than trying to get this necklace?” Fred asked, “We can’t keep ignoring Dads Patronuses about Ginny.”

“Yes, we can,” Hermione snapped, “You have plenty of other brothers who can handle it!”

She pushed herself to her feet and spun around, “If we go there, we are stupidly risking all of our lives, and I can handle putting myself in the firing line, but I can’t handle losing you two!”

The twins' eyes softened.

“I can’t,” Hermione said tearfully, “I’ve lost too much already.”

Fred pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, “You won’t lose us.”

Hermione sighed and pulled away, looking at George for the same confirmation.

The more sincere twin took her hand and gently pulled her towards him. He kissed her lips lightly, and Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut involuntarily.

“We’re a pack,” George murmured against her lips, “We’ll never let anything happen to you, and we know that you’ll never let anything happen to us.”

Hermione pressed a kiss against his lips then pulled away to look at Fred.

“We’re family, Hermione,” Fred promised as he ran his thumb down her cheek, “Family have each other’s backs, always.”

“That’s why we have to have Dads back now,” George said.

Hermione let out a sigh, and Fred placed a soft kiss on her lips. She pulled back and wiped her eyes, gathering her composure back up and taking a final steadying breath.

“Okay. The next time we get a Patronus from your dad, we’ll go.”

* * *

The mountaintop that Charlie and Felix were spending the night on was freezing, but they didn’t tend to feel the cold with dragons by their sides. There was always a roaring fire and a large, warm body to curl up next to. Dragons like Sarris and Lennox who the two trainers had raised from birth tended to be as protective over their trainers as the trainers were over them.

As it currently stood, the two dragons kept watch outside while Charlie and Felix kept each other warm and occupied inside the tent.

Felix was lying below Charlie in a makeshift camp bed, and Charlie was moving against him, his mouth on Felix’s neck as he moved against Felix. They had developed a rhythm that they knew like clockwork now, so many nights had been spent like this since they joined the Dark Lords ranks.

“Don’t you ever miss Peru?” Felix murmured, grabbing Charlie’s face and forcing him to look at him.

Charlie kissed Felix lightly, slowing his thrusts and murmuring against the other trainer's lips, “Why?”

Felix groaned against Charlie’s lips, “The heat,” he said, breathing in sharply as Charlie pulled almost all of the way out of him then thrust in hard, “Fuck Charlie, you remember? Just lying there in the baking heat with the stars above us?”

Charlie was close to the edge, his skin glistened with his sweat, and his voice was breathy and low when he said, “You’re being sentimental.”

Felix supposed he was, but before he had a chance to defend himself, Charlie claimed his lips. Felix kissed Charlie back instinctively, dragging him down by the back of the neck and rocking against the other man. Charlie groaned into Felix’s mouth and thrust into the smaller man harder; his steady rhythm becoming erratic.

With a groan of, “Fuck, Charlie,” Felix arched his back and tightened his grip on Charlie’s arms. Charlie reached between them and grabbed Felix’s cock, making the smaller man shout his name as Charlie pumped his fist in time to his thrusts into Felix.

They were both close when they kissed, all open-mouthed and messy; Charlie resting his forehead against Felix’s as they came together, murmuring each other's names and releasing all the pent up tension of the day.

They stayed like that for a second, Charlie propped up on his elbows above Felix, their foreheads touching and their hearts beating wildly, their chests heaving as they tried to get their breath back.

Charlie rolled to the side and shivered involuntarily. Felix cast a cleaning charm over them both and reached for a sheepskin blanket. He loosely threw it over their bodies, but neither of them said anything at first.

Felix didn’t think he would be able to get to sleep for a while, but he had his eyes shut in an attempt to do so anyway. Then in the quiet of the night, Charlie spoke.

“I miss how simple things were in Peru.”

Felix opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to look at Charlie.

Charlie gave him a searching look, “Before dark lords and marriage contracts.”

“Don’t,” Felix muttered.

“We can’t not talk about it forever, Felix,” Charlie said, rolling onto his side and running his hand up the other man's leg, eventually stopping and resting it on his hip bone.

“There’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, Char,” Felix said, looking away from Charlie to focus on the opening of the tent – through the gap they could see their dragons, slumbering by the fire.

“We don’t talk about the muggles we feed to the dragons when they’re hungry after a long flight,” Felix said in a pained whisper, “We don’t talk about the way you look disgusted every time you see that mark on your arm.”

Charlie couldn’t even look at his arm. Instead, he looked up at the roof of the tent.

“We don’t talk about the fact we fly over dozens of areas protected by magical enchantments every day and hand the co-ordinates over to the Dark Lord. We know that when we do that, snatchers are sent into the area but we don’t talk about that.”

Charlie swallowed hard.

“And we don’t talk about how we never give the Dark Lord the co-ordinates when you scan the wards and recognise a magical signature,” Felix finished, rolling onto his side to look at Charlie, “Because you know it's your brothers and the girl they have with them.”

“There’s a reason we don’t talk about that, Felix,” Charlie said, his eyes a whole shade darker as he looked at the other man.

“We don’t talk about it because if I talk about it too much, it’s going to fucking break me and I can’t afford that. I’m holding my family up right now; my dad is depressed, Bill is freaking out about becoming a father and he’s holding Ginny together right now, I mean Ginny won’t even fucking talk to us, and Merlin knows what Percy’s doing or if one day soon I’m going to have to face Ron and my own mother in a goddamn battle.”

Felix brought his hand to Charlie’s face, and Charlie closed his eyes, breathing a little better for the contact.

“And I can’t do anything,” Charlie said, his voice breaking, “I can’t help my dad, I can’t help Bill, I can’t make Ginny better, I can’t force Percy to come back to his family. I can’t make Mum and Ron change sides. All I can do is keep flying when I recognise those wards.”

Felix pressed a light kiss against Charlie’s lips, and Charlie melted into the softness of it, the security that it brought him.

In a broken whisper, Charlie said, “So I spend my nights trying to forget what we do all day and with what the Dark Lord said to you before we left today…I might be about to lose the only lifeline I’ve got.”

“You’re not losing me,” Felix said firmly, “You’ll never lose me.”

It was firm enough that Charlie opened his eyes and looked at his fellow trainer.

“Yes, the Dark Lord informed me that I’m pushing 30 now and I need a wife and heir to carry on the family name,” Felix agreed. His thumb caressed Charlie’s cheek, lulling the redheaded man into a sense of security and comfort.

“So I guess that just means I’ll need to find someone who can handle my unorthodox lifestyle because I’m not giving this up,” Felix finished.

Charlie looked at him for a long moment, and then he pulled Felix into a kiss – a different kiss from usual, it wasn’t demanding or lustful.

It was needy and fuelled with emotion, the only way Charlie knew to express his gratitude and the depth of his feelings towards Felix.

“I’ve given up enough already,” Felix murmured in-between kisses, “And you are the only thing that makes this life worth living.”

He broke the kiss to grip Charlie’s left arm in his own, and Charlie averted his eyes.

“No,” Felix said, placing their arms side by side, “Look at it.”

“Felix-”

“If you’re making me face the truths I’d rather not face then I’m sure as hell doing the same for you,” Felix said firmly, “Look at it, Charlie.”

Charlie looked at their dark marks grudgingly, but he did not avert his gaze.

“You look at that, and you think it makes you weak,” Felix said, “But it doesn’t. It makes you strong enough to do what it takes to survive in a world that wants to kill you.”

Charlie looked Felix in the eye and found the fire burning there incredibly alluring.

“You’re the strongest person I know and -” Felix faltered for a brief second then caught himself, “- I love you.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, if it weren’t for the emotional nature of the moment, Felix would have found it adorable. Charlie rolled over, pressing Felix against the camp bed as he kissed him hard and with more feeling than he knew how to express in words.

The dragons outside slumbered on, oblivious to the soft noises and murmurings of their trainers. Charlie found comfort in Felix’s words that night; he reassured him that life was still life. That while the world continued to turn and the stars continued to shine, there was hope.

* * *

**Prewett Castle, South Wales**

A small band of rebels were gathered around a table in the war room which had once been a tapestry room leading off the castles' great hall. The castle had been in a state of disarray when they took it on as their base, but they had made it watertight now at the very least.

Ron pulled his cloak closer to him and pointed his wand at the fire in the corner, firing it up a notch.

“We need a plan. We need to change something. We are losing this war.”

Ron looked up to see who had spoken – it had been Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“We need to start being pro-active and stop being so reactive,” Augusta Longbottom said darkly.

Molly nodded, “Augusta is right. We need to go out and do something rather than sitting here waiting for the Death Eaters to attack like we always do.”

“And what do you suggest exactly?” Kingsley asked, his eye on the two women.

Molly and Augusta shared a dark look, a knowing look.

“We take one of the Greengrass girls,” Augusta said.

Kingsley frowned, “For what purpose?”

“To draw the Death Eaters into a trap,” Molly answered, “You-Know-Who has the Blacks, and the Malfoys, the last piece of the puzzle is the Greengrass family. With them, he can truly say that he had complete control over the country.”

“What do they care about a kid though?” Seamus asked. He, Lavender and Dean had joined them a few weeks ago, Seamus and Lavender having found Dean on the run after they fled Hogwarts.

Ron had been glad to have a few people his own age around, especially when Lavender started fawning after him again – she was a welcome distraction.

“If a child of theirs is taken and held captive, it may be enough to convince the Greengrass’s to stay neutral,” Augusta said, “To avoid joining up with You-Know-Who.”

“Or it goes the other way and forces them to join up with You-Know-Who,” Kingsley pointed out.

“Yes, Kingsley, it’s a risk,” Molly agreed, “But frankly, everything we could do is a risk. If we capture the girl, the Death Eaters will come for her hoping that her rescue will lead the Greengrass family into joining them. But really, they will be playing right into her hands.”

“We can lay an ambush,” Ron said with a nod.

“A trap,” Molly agreed.

Kingsley looked at Molly for a long moment, “If we do this, we take the younger girl; otherwise, it amounts to line theft, and any traditional family would call for our heads after that.”

“I agree,” Augusta said with a nod, “And I believe I have the perfect place to hold her. Longbottom House is a ruin, but it has a high vantage point and a heavily defensive position. There are underground tunnels everywhere, making it perfect for an ambush.”

Ron frowned, “Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep her here? We have a dungeon underneath our feet.”

“Yes, Ronald, let’s draw the Death Eaters right into our base when they foolishly run in to rescue the girl,” An Auror said irritably.

Molly’s eyes flashed, “Do not speak to my son like that, Wolfe.”

“Tell him not to be so pathetically dim-witted them,” Wolfe replied dryly.

Molly looked like she was about to lunge forward, so Kingsley intervened, “Wolfe is right, Molly. Keeping her at Longbottom House is safer. If anything does go wrong if the Death Eaters try to rescue her, at least they won’t capture our base that way.”

“What do you mean ‘if they do’?” Lavender asked, “Surely they will see it as their only chance to get the Greengrass family on their side? Harry has been attempting to convince the heiress, but his attempts have been pathetic, he spends too much time sleeping with Theodore Nott to devote enough attention to her.”

“He’s sleeping with Nott?” Ron asked, his nose shrivelling up with disgust, “His standards really have dropped since he joined the Death Eaters.”

Molly made a noise of agreement.

“The point Kingsley was making is that these guys are Death Eaters,” Another Auror said, “Logic dictates that rescuing the girl is their best chance to get the Greengrass family’s favour, but these guys are sociopaths. You think they give a fuck about a silly little girl? She’s not the heiress; they could care less if she lives or dies.”

“She won’t die, Cauldwell,” Kingsley said, fixing his gaze on the Auror, “We are not the Death Eaters, we don’t kill children for kicks.”

“But they kill our children, and we don’t retaliate?” Molly questioned, “Maybe we should kill the girl, as retribution for what they did to the poor Abbott girl.”

“We are better than them, Molly,” Kingsley said, “And if we lose this war, I would like to lose with my moral integrity intact.”

“That’s the difference between you and I, Kingsley,” Molly said hotly, “I don’t want to lose. Losing isn’t even an option in my books, we will win, and we will do so by any means necessary.”

“Not by killing children!” Kingsley snapped, “If we kill the Greengrass girl, then they will retaliate by killing one of our children, and it becomes an eye for an eye. I won’t put Kiera or Piper in danger for the sake of the Abbott girl.”

Maggie took Kingsley’s hand, “We all have children to protect,” she looked across the room at a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair, drawn up into a ponytail. She had a round, freckled face and pale blue eyes.

Ron knew that her name was Caroline and that she was Maggie’s daughter from her first marriage. She had been in the year above Ron at school, but because she had been in Ravenclaw, Ron hadn't really been aware of her.

“Some of our children even insist on fighting by our sides,” Maggie said quietly, “Making this fight all the more difficult because of what we have to lose.”

Caroline nodded, but there was a look in her eyes, the look of someone who wasn’t entirely sure what they were fighting for.

A redheaded man by her side, put his hand on the small of her back and said, “It’ll be okay, Caroline, even if you can’t see it now.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Caroline said, gently pushing his hand off of her.

The air was tense, and the room was silent. Ron frowned down at the map laid out on the table before them. His mother had changed lately. Frankly, the only word that Ron could think of to use was deranged, half the time she acted deranged.

“We will kidnap the girl,” Kingsley said finally, “But before we do so, we will plan it out methodically because we are outnumbered, which means there is no room for error.”

Molly gave a stiff nod and looked down at the map which was covered in red dots.

“The situation out there is getting more drastic by the day. Reports of mysterious muggle deaths went up again this week, and more muggle-borns have gone missing. We’ve been picking off small groups of snatchers, but You-Know-Who picks street urchins up and imperiuses them as quickly as we can kill them.”

Ron knew what they were all saying – _we’re losing ­­_ – but none of them would put that into words. They were all pretending that they stood a chance, even though they knew they were vastly outnumbered. Lavender and Seamus had given them the run-down of Harry’s return to school and his apparent position as You-Know-Who’s right-hand man, and even if they refused to admit it, it had been an enormous blow.

“Any word from Matthias Jones?” Dean asked.

Kingsley looked at the aristocratic blonde woman by his side, “Maggie?”

Maggie nodded, “My brother can see how drastic the situation is. With any luck, he ought to join us soon,” she said in a subtle Welsh accent.

“Good. We need all the resources that we can get,” Molly said with a nod.

Ron frowned and looked out of the hall into the vast courtyard, “Is it really the worst idea to lure the Death Eaters here? Between the wards, the cursed doorways and the barbican, we could pick them off as they came in. I mean, the barbican is the only way in or out, and if we pull the planks from under them, they aren’t going to survive the kelpies.”

“And if some of them get in and kill us, then it’s all over,” Molly snapped, “Don’t be so stupid, Ron.”

Ron clenched his teeth, his jaw setting. He wanted to fight with her, but before he could do anything, a Patronus flew into the room.

_“Mum. It’s me; I’m outside. I’ve had a change of heart, and I need to do something, I need to fight.”_

Molly’s eyes widened, “Percy,” she breathed.

“It could be a trap,” Maggie cautioned.

Kingsley grabbed Molly’s arm and cast the appropriate identification spells, “It is him.”

Molly yanked her hand out Kingsley’s grasp and ran towards the barbican.

Prewett Castle’s entrance was unusual because of how paranoid the Prewett family had been about being attacked by their then-rival, the Jones family who were based in North Wales.

When you entered the barbican or main gate, you had to weave your way through narrow winding corridors with timber floors. These timber floors were retractable bridges that could be pulled away with magic. The castle was built on a hill and beneath its foundations was a vast underground lake that was positively infested with Kelpies. Needless to say, if a bridge was retracted and someone fell into the bottomless pit, it was a matter of whether their neck would break before or after the Kelpies got to them.

Molly made her way through the winding tunnels, lowered the drawbridge and pulled Percy into her arms, “Percy! It’s so wonderful to see you, oh, I’ve missed you so much!”

Percy patted her on the back awkwardly then she said, “I’ll show you around, darling, we’ll get you all settled. You’ve never been here, of course, have you? We left it be out of respect to your Uncles after what happened.”

Ron watched them emerge into the great hall with fury burning in his eyes. He had spent the last couple of months being loved and adored by his mother for the first time in his life. He glared at his elder brother and stalked from the room, taking the steps two at a time up into the domestic wing of the castle. He stepped into his bedroom and punched the stone wall, letting out an angry yell of frustration as he did so.

He was aware of someone following him, and he wasn’t surprised when Lavender walked into his chambers, “Ron, are you okay-”

With a growl, Ron spun around and pushed her against the cold, stone wall, gripping her by her ponytail and pressing his mouth against hers. She hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. The gasp that left her mouth turned to condensation because of how cold the room was.

Ron let go for long enough to push her cloak from her shoulders then he shoved her roughly onto the bed. Despite how many fires they lit, the castle was cold, so taking layers of clothing off was never on anyone’s minds.

Ignoring the uncertain, slightly scared look in Lavenders eyes, Ron pulled her jeans and lace panties down and freed his cock from his jeans and boxers with a groan. He crashed his lips against hers once more, kissing her hard enough that he knew he would leave bruises on her lips, and he didn’t really care that she would have to glamour up to hide them. He rubbed his cock against her clit, making her gasp into his mouth.

Ron was so wound up, he was so pissed off, fuelled by only anger and bitterness and a need for revenge. He couldn’t walk out of this castle and kill Harry Potter like he wanted to, but he could fuck Lavender into the bed until she screamed, and yeah, he would feel a little bad about it for a couple of days afterwards, but the stupid girl kept coming into his bedroom so what did she expect?

Without another thought, Ron pulled his lips away from Lavenders and flipped her over. He grabbed his aching cock and thrust it into her with a groan. Grabbing her by the hips and gripping her tight enough to leave her with bruises, Ron thrust into her as hard as he could. She whimpered at his touch, and he moved into her again, groaning loudly as he felt the tension in his body begin to ebb away.

Ron cursed and called her all sorts of disgusting, derogatory names. But because he had forced Lavender face down on his bed, he couldn’t see the tears that stained her cheeks as he pounded into her with all the force that he could. Her whimpers turned to cries and then to borderline screams that Ron muted by pressing her face down into the pillow.

The only time he said her name was when he was cumming, thrusting into her so hard that it hurt her stomach. He groaned and pulled out of her, casting a quick _Scourgify_ and pulling his jeans back up as quickly as he could.

Lavender reached for her wand and cast a shaky cleaning charm then pulled her own jeans up, wiping her owns and getting to her feet shakily. Ron looked away from her, walking over to the slit in the wall that passed as a window and squaring his shoulders.

Lavender didn’t say anything and Ron didn’t turn around until he heard the heavy wooden door swing shut behind her.

* * *

In the room next door, Dean was sitting on his bed. His knees were drawn up, and he looked tired. Lavenders cries and shouts had been bleeding through the thick castle walls, and it was infuriating his room-mate.

“The bastard’s doing it again,” Seamus muttered angrily.

“She goes in there voluntarily, Seamus,” Dean said quietly, “It’s not like he’s…you know?”

“Not like he's raping her?” Seamus spat, “Cause it sure as hell fucking sounds like he is!”

Dean leant back, resting his head against the cold wall.

Seamus kicked the wall irritably and shook his head, “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong with the world?” Dean countered, his bloodshot eyes meeting his best friends.

Seamus threw up a silencing charm and sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed, “What’s going on with you?”

Dean sighed and looked away from Seamus, “I went to the Ministry. I did what they asked, gave them all my data, let them take my blood.”

Seamus frowned, “If you did what they asked, why are you on the run?”

“I’m not,” Dean replied, “I could go back to Hogwarts if I want to, I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to by the time you found me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come looking for you sooner,” Seamus said, he looked at their hands which were resting next to each other on the bed, “I thought you’d come back to school and then you didn’t and I didn’t know how to just up sticks and-”

Dean put his hand on top of Seamus’s, “It’s fine. I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to school, I just thought it was a trick. I…growing up with Muggles, learning Muggle history-” he shook his head.

“What?” Seamus asked, “You can tell me, whatever it is.”

Dean let his head rest against the wall once more, his hand slipping off of Seamus’s, “Part of me thought they were luring Muggle-borns back to Hogwarts to get us all in one place then they’d shove us in a gas chamber.”

Seamus, having a Muggle father, knew what he was referring to. He nodded, “Yeah, I get that, Dean.”

Dean still had his eyes shut, and for a moment, they fell silent.

“When I went to the Ministry, I found out that I’m a half-blood,” Dean confessed, opening his eyes to look at Seamus, “I knew it was an option, you know, growing up not knowing my Dad and all?”

Seamus nodded.

“He was a McKinnon, that’s all I know,” Dean said, looking up at the roof, “So whoever he was, he’s dead. You-Know-Who and his followers wiped out the whole family in the first war.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore, Seamus. We’ve lost this war, that’s what they were really saying in that meeting earlier.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Seamus said, “We’re the good guys, and everyone knows that the good guys always win.”

“The good guys don’t always win,” Dean argued, his dark eyes boring into Seamus’s, “And are we really the good guys? What makes Ron any better than Harry?”

“Harry killed Lavender’s Uncle-”

“Yeah for abusing a teenage girl,” Dean remarked, “And now he’s fucking Lavender like she’s a sex worker, and worse, she’s _letting_ him.”

Seamus’s eyes flashed, not with anger but with recognition. Dean knew his best friend like the back of his hand, deep down, he knew that Seamus felt the same.

“You said when you left Hogwarts, even Ginny was talking with Harry,” Dean said, “Ginny wouldn’t do that if Harry were the bad guy.”

“Yeah and now she’s having some meltdown, nobody has seen her for days,” Seamus muttered, pushing himself off of the bed, “And I should never have brought her name into this cause you’d agree with anything she did.”

“Seamus, don’t start this again, I know you never liked Ginny but-”

“But what? You’re going to stalk into Hogwarts and take your chances with Harry and his pet Basilisk just because your ex-girlfriend doesn’t hate him? Are you for fucking real?” Seamus snapped, spinning around to glare at Dean.

“I trust her judgement,” Dean countered, pushing himself up irritably.

“And what about mine?” Seamus barked.

Dean frowned, “Of course I trust your judgement. You’re my best friend.”

Seamus laughed humourlessly and looked away, “Yeah, I’m your best friend,” he agreed.

Deans frown deepened, “What the hell is this about, Seamus?”

Seamus turned around and looked at Dean like he was mad, “What’s this about? Are you really that blind, Dean?”

Before Dean had a chance to get pissed off about the insult, Seamus took a step forward and brushed his lips against Deans, keeping his eyes open so he could gauge the expression on his best friends face.

Dean’s eyes widened and flooded with realisation. Instantly, he closed the gap and pressed his lips against his friends. Seamus’s body relaxed, and he instinctively tilted his head up as Dean deepened the kiss, pulling the shorter man against him and looping his hand around the back of Seamus’s neck.

It was different, to feel soft stubble against lips and cheeks, to kiss chapped, rough lips that weren’t coated in lip gloss. But neither of them cared that much as Dean walked backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. He leant back, pulling Seamus with them until they tumbled to the bed messily, both laughing as they did so.

Dean rolled onto his side and kissed Seamus again, harder this time and with more urgency. Seamus stifled a groan against his lips as he edged closer to Dean, causing their hard cocks to brush together through the thick fabric of their jeans.

Seamus was the one who realised what they were doing and chickened out first. He broke the kiss and tried to pull away from Dean, but the taller boy wouldn’t let him. He gripped Seamus by the wrist and kept him flush against his body.

“Dean, I-”

“For warmth, if nothing else,” Dean said, his voice was soft and quiet again – the comforting, calm tone that Seamus had always known.

Seamus stopped trying to pull away with a nod, and although Dean loosened his grip on his wrist, he didn’t let go.

*** TBC ***


	25. Slowly Out of Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The October full moon brings with it a crucial Death Eater meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:   
> You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring

As October marched on, Harry began to feel relatively confident in his recruitment role. From time to time, Voldemort (or sometimes Artemis) would remind him that it was dangerous to become too arrogant.

All the same, Harry marched on with his day to day life, enjoying the relative peace and quiet from Voldemort. He could only assume that he was out of the country conducting business, but Harry wasn’t complaining either way.

By the time the October full moon rolled around, Ginny was still M.I.A, and Harry had managed to convince Aberforth Dumbledore to keep his nose out of things and leave the light to their inevitable demise. It hadn't been a difficult task; he hated his dead brother as much as Harry did which, knowing about his family history now, made sense to Harry.

As early evening closed in on the night of the full moon, Harry was lounging with two of his favourite people in the Head Common Room when his left arm burned.

“Fuck,” Theo hissed, gripping his arm through the soft material of his shirt.

Lily closed her book and looked at him, “Really, Nott?”

“Come on, Lil, we know Theo has a pretty low pain threshold,” Harry said, shooting the other boy a grin as he got to his feet.

Theo grumbled but didn’t deny it, pushing himself to his feet at the same time.

“What do you think he wants?” Theo asked as they left via Harry’s bedroom and took a shortcut through the Slytherin common room.

“Since nobody is due to be marked tonight, as far as I know anyway, I suspect it will just be a Death Eater meeting,” Harry mused, “But if he’s calling one, that means he has news. I wonder if Howard Abbott told him anything.”

“He was a Hufflepuff, he probably caved quickly enough,” Theo agreed.

“Hufflepuffs are loyal to those who they love,” Lily reminded Theo, “That makes them resistant to torture.”

“Until of course, the Dark Lord gives him proof that the only person he loved - his beloved daughter – is dead,” Harry added, “Then I doubt he would have much to fight for.”

“He might have just died out of stubbornness,” Lily pointed out.

“Yes, that much is true,” Harry agreed. By the time they had gone through Harry’s dorm room to the common room, Draco and Blaise had left. As such, they walked through the darkened school as a trio, a very different one to the trio Harry had previously been part of.

Lily glanced side-long at Harry, “Do you think I should mention what Amycus Carrow did to Ginny?”

Harry grimaced, “I don’t know. Amycus is one of the Dark Lords oldest and most loyal followers, Lil. It might not be worth the fight.”

“I think he might listen to me,” Lily said.

“I thought that at the beginning, right up until I overstepped and got tortured worse than I ever have in my life,” Harry said, giving her a warning look, “However nice he can be, however charming he acts, you need to remember who he is. He’s a weapon – a killer.”

Theo nodded from Lily’s other side, “You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.”

Harry and Lily both looked at him in surprise.

“Where did that nugget of wisdom come from?” Lily asked.

Theo frowned, “Old wizarding proverb, all the elders say it. Haven’t you heard it?”

Lily shook her head, “Filthy mudblood who recently found out she’s a Black. Remember?”

Harry snorted, “Half-blood raised by filthy Muggles, remember?”

Theo tutted, “Honestly, I surround myself with heathens,” he smirked at Harry, the last word was laced with sexual innuendo.

Lily rolled her eyes in amusement, and Harry smiled at Theo’s antics, “Really though, Lily – tread carefully.”

“I will,” Lily promised.

* * *

As it turned out, there was a small marking ceremony on the October full moon. Several families swore an oath of loyalty to the Dark Lord – the Shafiq’s and the Browns were amongst them, as were the Montague family whose eldest son, Graham also joined their ranks as a Death Eater.

As Harry had expected, a Death Eater meeting followed the oaths, and interestingly enough, Severus was the last to arrive at the dining table in Malfoy Manor.

Harry leaned back in his chair, wondering if they should change the setting, it was challenging to fit them in the long, thin room. Maybe they should move this outside, with a wooden table, a round one.

Voldemort, who Harry kept thinking of as Tom in his head now because he looked like Tom again, raised an eyebrow at Harry and thought, _Why a round table?_

_Old Muggle story,_ Harry thought back, _King Arthur and his knights of the round table._

King Arthur was the Muggle king with which Merlin himself was rumoured to be in love.

Harry had not known that, _Merlin, a Slytherin, was in love with a Muggle?_

_Reputedly so._

_Well, that's interesting if nothing else._ Their mental conversation was put to a stop when Severus entered the room with an apology, “My apologies, my lord – I was held up at the school.”

Voldemort bowed his head, “I have called you here today to discuss some recent developments. Several of you are aware that Howard Abbott was being held captive. We have extracted all relevant information from him, and he is now dead, as is his daughter, Hannah.”

That had all been relatively common knowledge, so there were no gasps of surprise.

“Hannah’s death was interesting, to say the least,” Voldemort said, looking down the table, “But then again, it should not come as a surprise that the son of Alfred Nott was the one to think of choking Miss Abbott to death with a Gemino Cursed Galleon.”

There was a shuffle and with it a lot of murmuring, as everyone looked at Theo. His father positively beamed at his side and patted him on the back proudly. Theo smiled and muttered a, “Thank you, Father.”

“This is, of course, a huge blow to the Order of the Phoenix,” Voldemort said with a wicked smile – it didn’t matter if his eyes were red or blue, they were still filled with malice. Snake-like or handsome, his smirk and his smile were still menacing.

“They lost the support of the Dumbledore family too, my lord,” Harry spoke up, “Given the recent information about the family that has come to light, thanks to Rita Skeeter. I am sure you can understand why Aberforth does not wish to support his brother's friends.”

Voldemort chuckled, “Indeed.”

“My lord,” Snape said boldly, “I also have news regarding the Order.”

Bill raised a hand, “As do I, my lord.”

Voldemort motioned for Severus to continue, “Yes, Severus?”

“I have it on good authority that the cracks in the Order have begun to appear,” Snape continued, “The Order has split into two factions.”

At this, Voldemort gave Snape his full attention, “Is that so?”

Snape bowed his head, “There was a disagreement between Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks. It appears that those who have taken Molly Weasley’s side favour a more militant approach and those who have taken Andromeda’s favour a peaceful end to the war.”

Voldemort looked from Snape to Bill, “You have further information, Weasley?”

“I have heard rumours, my lord,” Bill replied, “The militant Order is set to rebrand themselves as The Army of the Phoenix, led by my mother and the Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. I believe he has several of the Aurors who were expelled from the ministry when we took over, on his side. But the militant faction is small, the majority of the Order elected to remain defensive, not an offensive force.”

Voldemort gave a small nod, “Thank you, Weasley.”

He looked around at his followers, all of whom were awaiting some sort of announcement. Voldemort thought it over for a moment, glancing at Harry as he did so. Harry could tell what he was thinking, even though Voldemort wasn’t projecting his thoughts so, with a small nod, he let the Dark Lord know that he thought it was a good idea too.

“The militant Order members will suffer,” Voldemort said coolly, “Treat them as you treated all Order members in the last war.”

“Kill them on sight?” One of the Lestrange brothers asked eagerly.

Bellatrix grinned widely, “Or worse,” she said with a little chuckle.

Voldemort looked Bellatrix directly in the eye, and she was instantly silent.

“We shall attempt to turn the more peaceful Order members to our cause,” Voldemort said, his high voice filling the room, “But some would choose death over subjugation. That is their choice, and they may have it.”

Bill looked down but said nothing.

“My lord,” Yaxley said, “I have news also.”

“Yes, Yaxley?”

“The scheme we have been working on these past few weeks has been successfully launched.”

Harry looked up sharply, but Voldemort did not flinch, “Continue.”

“We named it the Muggle-born Marriage Law,” Yaxley said.

“And it was written up exactly as I asked it to be?” Voldemort asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yaxley floundered under Voldemort’s stare, “Uh….yes, my lord. Only the Head of a pureblooded family can enact the Marriage Law. When they do, all other contracts are overwritten, and as long as a female heir marries a muggle-born, the family name along with all of its assets and lands can be passed down the female line.”

Voldemort nodded, “Excellent. Have your staff prepare the advertising and ensure that when the scheme is launched, everyone hears about it.”

Harry was smirking to himself, which caught Voldemort’s attention.

“Harry, would you care to share your amusement with the rest of the group?” Voldemort asked, his voice even but with a hint of sarcasm bubbling under the surface.

“Oh, it’s just that to ensure the Browns loyalty, I promised Kevin Brown a young muggle-born wife to give him an heir,” Harry said, still smirking.

“He jumped at the chance to kill his wife, but soon it seems he will discover that his sacrifice was unimportant because his daughter, Lavender, would have been able to give him an heir all along.”

Some of the other Death Eaters chuckled at that too, but Voldemort did not. He said nothing and drew his eyes away from Harry.

“My lord,” Yaxley said again, “My aide – Dolores Umbridge has also suggested a Muggle-born Registration scheme to draw out the Muggle-borns and imprison them until they can be married into pureblood families.”

Harry scoffed but said nothing.

Voldemort looked at Yaxley, “We do not need to imprison them, Yaxley. We simply need to be aware of who they are. I suppose from the inelegant noise that just escaped your mouth that you agree, Harry?”

Harry nodded, “I agree that drawing them out is required for the Marriage Law to work. But rather than imprisoning them, we can keep them on file and use the data you uncover for a more scientific purpose.”

Harry looked over at Gus, “But from what Gus has told me, Muggle-borns are already being invited for blood tests to determine their true parentage.”

Gus gave Harry a nod.

Harry leant back and tapped his fingers against the table, “I suspect the results would be interesting – several supposed Muggle-borns like Lily herself are half-bloods who never knew one of their parents after all.”

There was an intake of breath from several of the Death Eaters who hadn’t been privy to this little gem of knowledge. Harry used this moment to think, _And the Wood baby, otherwise known as Hermione Granger._

Voldemort had already known about this little gem of information. He and Harry spoke in their heads regularly after all. As such, he thought back, _Indeed._

Lily smirked and gave a little wave, “Hi I’m Lily Black, daughter of Regulus and therefore the Black family heir.”

“Quiet, Black,” Voldemort said.

“Sorry, my lord,” Lily returned.

Voldemort spoke to the room as a whole, “I do believe that Harry’s idea for the commission is more efficient.”

He turned to Yaxley and ordered, “Yaxley, see that mandatory blood testing of all Muggle-borns is introduced immediately and once you have the required data, keep all confirmed Muggle-borns on record for the Marriage Law scheme.”

“Yes, my lord,” Yaxley said, looking a little put-out, “I shall get Dolores on it immediately.”

“Dolores?” Harry muttered then he said something much ruder under his breath.

Yaxley frowned, “Yes. Do you have a problem with that, Potter?”

Harry scoffed.

“Answer Yaxley’s question, Harry,” Voldemort said, his voice quiet but demanding, “Do you have a problem with Dolores Umbridge?”

“Well, since according to dear old Dolores ‘I must not tell lies’, yes, I have a problem with her,” Harry said, looking up at Voldemort, “She is a vile woman with no more magic than Argus Filch. She lies about her heritage when, in reality, she comes from nothing and her father was a lowly janitor in the Ministry. She took pleasure in torturing children while she worked at Hogwarts, and if I’m honest, she’s a social climber with no real skill whatsoever.”

“You forgot about the centaurs,” Lily piped up.

Harry snorted, and Voldemort raised an eyebrow, “Centaurs?”

“She was kidnapped and probably assaulted by Centaurs a couple of years ago, and if anyone deserved it, it was her,” Lily fumed.

“You have a problem with her as well?”

Lily held out her hand and showed Voldemort thin scars that were etched there, “It says, ‘I must learn my place’, she had me etch it into my own skin with a dark quill because I kept answering back when she told us the wrong information in class.”

Harry showed Voldemort his hand.

“Mine says, ‘I must not tell lies’ because she turned the entire school against me for telling everyone that you were back, all because the ministry was terrified of the uproar, so they were trying to deny it had happened.”

Voldemort was silent, and the room was tense.

“Do you want her killed?” Voldemort asked Harry quite calmly.

“No, I don’t want her killed,” Harry replied, “I want to kill her.”

Voldemort smirked, “Yaxley, find a new Ministry employee to conduct your scheme. Perhaps, Percy Weasley?”

“He would be honoured, I’m sure,” Bill said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Voldemort asked if anyone had any further information to relay, and as they did not, he dismissed the meeting but asked two people to stay behind.

_Await me in my private quarters. We need to have a conversation, and the utmost privacy is required._

Harry looked at Voldemort with interest, _Okay._

He fell into step with Theo and murmured, “I need to talk to the Dark Lord privately, don’t wait up.”

Theo nodded, “Just Moon and me tonight then,” he joked.

“Lillian,” Voldemort’s high voice said just as Lily was about to join them.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Stay back, please,” Voldemort instructed.

Harry looked at Lily nervously, but Lily seemed unphased by the Dark Lords request. Theo made a face at Harry, “Just me then,” he said.

Harry nodded, “I’ll see you later,” he said because they had reached the entrance hall and therefore had to go their separate ways.

* * *

“Have you officially changed your name to Black?” Voldemort asked Lily when the room had emptied.

“I filed a request with the Ministry, but as of yet, it is not official. I have to wait for the blood results to come back and for someone to sign off on it,” She waved her hands irritably, “Bureaucracy, you know what it's like.”

“Indeed,” Voldemort said, his eyes surveying her, “I presume you are wondering why I asked you to stay behind?”

“I presume it’s because Amycus Carrow said some rude things about me.”

Voldemort opened the dining room doors and said, “We ought to walk.”

Lily frowned but stepped into the garden with him silently. He held out his arm and wordlessly, Lily linked hers through it.

“Yes, Amycus did have rather a lot to say about you,” Voldemort mused.

“He accused you of overstepping your bounds and being both disrespectful and condescending.”

“I did do all of that,” Lily confessed.

Voldemort looked sideways at her, “And why would that be?”

“Well, my lord, there is no easy way to say this,” Lily began diplomatically, “But Amycus likes to touch little girls and given my history with men like that, I think I was quite restrained.”

Voldemort’s jaw set, but he said nothing at first. They walked past a fountain with plimpys swimming around, occasionally jumping out of the water with a squeak.

“Forgive me if I’m too frank here,” Lily continued, “But I think you give your followers too much credit and too long a leash. I very much doubt you would employ him in a school if you had known about this character flaw of his.”

“Are you questioning my authority, Lillian?” Voldemort asked, his voice low and threatening.

“No,” Lily answered honestly, “Just your decision making.”

They paused by a bench, and Voldemort let go of her arm, “If anyone else had spoken to me the way that you just did, I would have cursed them. I have killed people for less.”

Lily met his eye, “So why haven’t you cursed me?”

“I have no idea,” Voldemort returned, his eyes on hers, “All the same, you are correct. I would not have employed Amycus in a school if I had known about that character flaw. I will have to do something about it, of course, and I think I may have a solution, but you will have to leave that in my hands.”

Lily gave him a little nod and sat down on the bench, looking up at the vast manor, “The Malfoys have done rather well for themselves, haven’t they?”

Voldemort sat down next to her, leaning back to survey the manor, “Yes, they have, but they are followers, not leaders. They find the most powerful man in the room and cling to him until he dies, then they move onto the next person. That is what they have done throughout history and look at this,” he motioned around the garden, “This is what they have achieved.”

Lily sighed, “I grew up in a council estate in London; you probably don’t know what this is.”

“I am aware of what a council estate is,” Voldemort said, his blue eyes darkening, “And I know London rather well. I grew up there too.”

Lily looked sideways at him, “Did you? What area?”

“Lambeth,” Voldemort replied quietly.

Lily frowned, “Lambeth? I grew up near there in Whitechapel, but Lambeth…that’s all been demolished, it’s all offices and businesses up there.”

“It was bombed heavily by the Germans during the filthy muggles second war,” Voldemort said, his voice still quiet and his dark eyes still on the house up ahead, “I suspect the orphanage I grew up in was demolished for ‘redevelopment’ as the Muggles like to call it.”

Lily was silent as she contemplated his words. He spoke like he knew, like he had been around while the Germans were bombing the city. She didn’t think he was that old; she thought he had been a relatively young man in the last war.

“So were you a kid in the orphanage when that was happening or…?” Lily cut herself off.

Voldemort looked sideways at her, “No, I was at Hogwarts for the majority of the Blitz, but I was forced to return to the orphanage during two summers while the Germans bombed the city. My entire childhood was spent in the shadow of the foolish Muggle war.”

Lily tried not to show how much she was reeling from that revelation. She listened as he spoke, but she was also doing the math in her head.

“They had a war that killed 20 million people,” Voldemort said distastefully, “They called it the war to end all wars and then twenty years later, they were back in the same old fight.”

Lily frowned, “I’m sorry if this is disrespectful, but isn’t that what is happening right now? Isn’t this our World War Two?”

“No,” Voldemort said, his eyes on Lily’s once more, “One could argue that this is not a war at all. The last time I had to strike terror into the hearts of the nation, but now they already fear me. This has been more of a political overthrow than a war thus far. There have been no pitch battles, only mere skirmishes with a handful of wizards on each side.”

Lily shrugged, she couldn’t argue with that logic to be fair.

“Have you discovered what age I am yet?” Voldemort asked, “I could tell that was what you were trying to work out.”

“You’re 70,” Lily said, involuntarily casting her eyes over him, “But I must say, you wear it well. You don’t look a day over 45.”

Voldemort let out a reluctant laugh, “This is not my true face; it is an imagined form of what I might look like had I aged normally.”

Lily nodded, “I know what you really look like, or I’ve heard the stories at least – red eyes and a…”

“Snake-like appearance?” He finished.

Lily nodded, but neither of them said anymore on the subject.

“Anyway,” Lily said, changing the subject, “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, growing up during the war.”

Voldemort nodded, “It was interesting, to say the least.”

“Also,” Lily frowned, “What kind of Headmaster sends a kid back into the middle of the bloody Blitz?”

“Armando Dippet,” Voldemort said dryly.

Lily shook her head in disbelief, “If you grew up in London, I guess you never found out about your parents until you were older? Like me, with my father?”

“I knew a little about my mother,” Voldemort replied, “I knew she had died at the orphanage after my birth. But I did not find out why she died until I was much older.”

Lily didn’t question him, even though she wanted to know what had made him into the monster that everyone viewed him as.

“I suspect you have already guessed,” Voldemort said, glancing at her, “But like you and Harry, I am a half-blood.”

“Muggle father?” Lily guessed.

Voldemort frowned at her, “How did you guess?”

“Only people with Daddy issues see the signs,” Lily joked, “Sorry if that’s overstepping, dark sense of humour, remember?”

Voldemort made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a humph.

“So your name isn’t really Voldemort then, is it? I guess it’s probably something boring like Tom, Dick or Harry, so you changed it to sound more pureblood?”

Voldemort’s eyes snapped to her in shock, “How did you do that? Are you using Legilimency?” he got to his feet and reached for his wand.

Lily jumped and got to her feet in alarm, “What? No! It’s an old saying – every Tom, Dick and Harry.”

Voldemort’s hand twitched as he resisted the urge to grab his wand and point it at her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said, swallowing and looking at him warily.

“I was unfortunately named for my muggle father,” Voldemort said distastefully, “My mother was a disgrace to the Gaunt family. Not only did she fall in love with a muggle – she fell in love with the great-grandson of the man who took our family home from us.”

Lily frowned, “Muggles took your family home?”

“The Gaunt family had been dying out for years,” Voldemort explained, “Inbreeding had led to infant mortality and insanity. It made it easy for that muggle family to take our family manor from us. My mother was raised in a hovel, a shack, just outside of the grounds of what had once been our family home.”

“Have you taken it back now?” Lily asked curiously.

Voldemort bowed his head, “I have, and when I have not been conducting business, I have been restoring it to its former glory. Malfoy Manor will remain our headquarters – it is strategically placed to defend against our enemies in Wales, but I do not wish to reside with

Lucius and his peacocks forever.”

Lily nodded, “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I understand why you feel sensitive about it. I’m changing my name too, for similar reasons.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, “You have already told me that you are changing your name to Black.”

“No, I’m changing my first name too,” Lily said, suddenly very aware of the distance between them and the shift in the air.

They had been close, confiding in each other and happy with the others company and now there was a literal void in-between them.

“I don’t want to keep my filthy Muggle grandmothers name, so I’m changing it from Lillian to Lilith.”

Voldemort’s guard dropped for a moment, “Lilith? Meaning ‘she of the night’?”

Lily shrugged, “Well, it’s accurate. Isn’t it?”

Voldemort did not reply immediately, but he seemed to be at ease again, “I apologise for acting in such a defensive manner,” he held his hand out to her.

Despite the frightening display, Lily didn’t hesitate to take it. He pulled her towards him but did not relinquish his grip. He intertwined his fingers with hers and led her further into the rose garden, away from the grand manor.

“I do wonder what has caused the Order of the Phoenix to fracture so suddenly,” Voldemort mused. Lily would have been surprised by the rapid change of subject if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell Voldemort was just trying to steer away from the topic of contention.

Lily cleared her throat, “Well, it will have something to do with the fact Ginny Weasley just discovered that her Mother has been manipulating her and lying to her for the past two years.”

Voldemort looked down at Lily, “Elaborate.”

“Ginny had this ring, it had a compulsion charm tied to it,” Lily explained, “I found out after I supervised her detention with Amycus Carrow. I had her talk to McGonagall about it, and they were both visibly shocked when they discovered what Molly Weasley had done. Nobody has seen Ginny for the best part of a month, so everyone thinks she’s had a mental breakdown and I suspect it was the cause of the argument between Molly and McGonagall.”

“I would suspect you are right,” Voldemort said quietly, “Do you know why she manipulated her daughter?”

“She wanted Ginny to fall in love with Harry, to keep him on the side of the light, for money and status too,” Lily said with a shrug, “She compelled Ginny to drug Harry with a love potion in sixth year.”

Voldemort scoffed, “Love potions have a lot to answer for. If I could outlaw them and destroy any reference to them in literature, I would.”

Lily looked up in surprise at this, “You seem to have a personal vendetta against love potions.”

Voldemort’s jaw set again, “I believe they are very dangerous potions that create very dangerous people.”

Lily frowned, “You can’t be talking about the old myth? Surely someone as smart and logical as you doesn’t believe that?”

“There is no proof to the contrary,” Voldemort pointed out.

“There is, it just hasn’t been published in any book,” Lily remarked, “How can a child conceived under the influence of a love potion not be capable of love? Love potions don’t affect the soul or the DNA; they alter the brain of the victim, not the child that is conceived.”

Voldemort said nothing.

Lily shook her head, “Saying a child conceived in that manner is not capable of love is like saying that a child conceived through rape is not capable of love. But look at me, we both know that’s how my conception came about, and I am.”

Voldemort remained silent.

“Everyone is capable of love,” Lily finished, “Some people are just too scared of it to accept that.”

Her words struck a chord with him and got his mind reeling as he thought of Bellatrix and the baby he had instructed Narcissa to dispose of.

“As interesting as your opinion is, I am not entirely sure that I agree with it,” Voldemort said diplomatically, turning around and beginning to walk back to the house.

“Life would be incredibly boring if we all agreed all of the time,” Lily countered.

Voldemort smiled slightly, but they fell silent. They enjoyed the cool night air, and the slight breeze in silence of the comfortable variety until they reached the boundary where they would go their separate ways – Lily would go back to Hogwarts and Voldemort would re-enter the manor.

At this point, Voldemort dropped her hand, but he hesitated before he walked away from her.

“Tom.”

“What?” Lily asked, turning around with a frown.

“My name,” Voldemort said, his eyes meeting hers, “It is Tom, Tom Riddle.”

Lily smiled and cocked her head at him. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t say anything, but then she took a step forward and tentatively kissed him on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

Voldemort swallowed, he didn’t think he had ever heard his name said so tenderly.

“Goodnight,” He caught himself before he could call her Lillian, “Lilith Black .”

* * *

Harry was falling asleep in an armchair by the fire when something was dropped into his lap. He jolted awake and looked down at a locket.

“What’s that?” Harry asked stupidly.

Voldemort sat down opposite him, “Open it.”

Harry pried the locket open and took out a note. He scanned it with a frown then looked up at Voldemort.

“It should have been a Horcrux,” Voldemort said distastefully, “Placed carefully inside Salazar Slytherin’s locket. However, thanks to Regulus Black, it is not.”

Harry rubbed his scar as Voldemort’s anger bled into him, “So that’s how Regulus Black died then?”

“He died stealing the real locket and swapping it out for this cheap replica,” Voldemort said, casting a disdainful look at the locket.

Harry frowned, “If he died then how did he manage to switch them?”

“I do not know,” Voldemort said, resting his head in his hands, “But the underground lake surrounding that locket was full of Inferi, so I can only assume he has joined them.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “Then we can ask him about it, can’t we?”

Voldemort gave Harry a dubious look, “Harry, you really ought to read more about dark creatures. Inferi cannot talk or function remotely like human beings; they are the walking dead. They are nothing more than puppets!”

Another sharp pain coursed through Harry’s head.

“Right, sorry,” Harry said sheepishly, “This is bad, isn’t it? We’re back to the drawing board with no idea where the real locket is.”

Voldemort gave a small, irritated nod.

“I mean, it might have been in Grimmauld Place at one point,” Harry continued, “You know the Black family home? But Mundungus Fletcher ransacked that place a couple of years ago and pawned everything.”

“Where?” Voldemort asked, suddenly paying a little more attention, “At Borgin and Burkes?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

Voldemort sighed, “I will talk to Mr Borgin in the odd chance that it has passed through his hands, but you are correct – we are back to the drawing board once again with this particular artifact.”

“It is the last one though, isn’t it?” Harry asked, “The diary and the ring have been destroyed, and the rest are accounted for?”

“They are, yes,” Voldemort said, getting to his feet, “But I have already lost two. I cannot afford to lose another.”

A thought flitted through Harry’s mind before he had a chance to stop it or block it out. _More valuable to you than your actual child then._

Without drawing his wand, Voldemort locked the door and threw Harry up against it with magic. Harry tried to suck in a breath, but couldn’t and before he knew it, he had Voldemort’s wand against his chest.

“I do not know how you found out about that,” Voldemort hissed, “ _CRUCIO_!”

The words were uttered were such rage that Harry knew before he felt the sharp, burn, that this would be painful. He yelled when the curse began to make his blood feel as if it was boiling and steaming through his veins.

“But that is strictly need to know information” Voldemort continued as Harry’s nerves burned as if they were on fire, he cried out in pain, as he had on that tombstone in the graveyard a few years back, “And you do not need to know!”

Harry was quite ashamed of the scream that left his lips as the pain worsened; he thought his bones might shatter.

“And it is certainly not any of your business!” Voldemort roared, thrusting his wand at Harry and pushing him through the door, onto the hard wooden floor in the hallway.

Harry was gasping for air, cradling what he thought might be a broken arm, and all the while trying not to pass out from the unbearable pain of Voldemort’s anger, coursing through him via his scar. He threw his head back, leaning against the cold, stone wall and wishing that he had been better at Occlumency.

* * *

Harry had no idea how he managed to apparate himself back to Hogwarts without killing himself. He was in something of a daze as he wandered through the castle halls.

“Potter?”

Harry looked up blearily, “Yeah Headmaster, I’m out of bed, I know. Is it really the time for detention, though?”

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, “What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened to me?” Harry muttered.

Snape sighed and took Harry’s arm, “Come to my office; I can give you a healing draught.”

Harry was in no mood or physical state to argue. He let Snape drag him into his office, and when he handed him a vial of yellow potion, Harry knocked it back.

“It is only a simple healing draught; it will not fix everything,” Snape said, his eyes sweeping over Harry, “I can cast a diagnostic charm to ensure there is no further damage.”

“Don’t bother; I’ll be fine.”

“I am trying to help you, Potter,” Snape said irritably, “I have been trying to help you from the moment I told you the truth.”

“Yeah but I’m starting to get the impression that I didn’t do what you wanted me to do with the truth,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Snape.

Snape pursed his lips but said nothing.

“And I’ll be honest, I really don’t think you give a shit about me or my welfare,” Harry added, “I think from the moment I arrived at this school, you’ve tried to help me, to keep me alive because of some sick debt you feel like you owe to my mother for getting her killed.”

“How dare you,” Snape hissed.

“You’re angry because I’m right,” Harry said, pushing himself to his feet shakily, “I think you told me the truth hoping it would give me a better chance of survival while I fought the Dark Lord because deep down, you are not loyal to him. You want him dead for what he did to my mother. Are you a traitor, Snape?”

“No,” Snape said coolly, “And questions of such significance ought to come from the Dark Lord himself, not the boy who claims to be his right hand.”

“You didn’t expect me to take the truth and turn to the man you secretly hate the most,” Harry finished, a little vindictively.

“And you’re terrified that if there is an afterlife, my mother will hate you when you get there for giving me the information that turned me dark, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Severus.”

Snape’s hand was twitching as he resisted the urge to reach for his wand.

“Because if there is an afterlife, and if it is as simple as up or down, heaven or hell?” Harry said, his hand on the door handle, “Let’s put it this way, the likes of you and I will be going down, and my mother definitely isn’t going to be there.”

“You overstep your bounds, Potter,” Snape hissed, “Just like your insolent father!”

“Back to that old chestnut, are we?” Harry asked calmly, “I don’t trust you, Snape, so you know that old saying? The one about snitches?”

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“Betray us, and they won’t have anything left to stitch back together,” Harry threatened, “I’ll be the one to put you in the ground and send you down to the devil's domain.”

Without waiting for Snape to say anything else, or potentially curse him, Harry left the office and made his way along the corridor to the Slytherin Common Room.

As he walked, he felt a stabbing pain begin in his side, and as the pain worsened, sweat began to glisten on his forehead. At first, he thought Snape had cursed him, but as the pain worsened, he realised that it had to be related to what Voldemort had done.

When he stumbled into the common room, it was empty, bar from Theo who had waited up despite Harry telling him not to.

“Thank fuck I waited up,” Theo said, catching Harry as he stumbled, “Why didn’t you go to Narcissa?”

Harry shook his head and mumbled that he was fine.

“Like hell you are, you look like you’re on death’s door,” Theo said, leading Harry towards his dorm room, “I’ll have Lily take a look at you, and if she can’t help, then you’ll have to see Narcissa.”

Harry tried to speak, but he was pretty sure his words came out all mashed up. He was in a haze of pain, the world around him was blurring and shifting, he felt sick, and he could barely keep his eyes open as Theo dragged him into the Head Common Room.

“Harry! What happened?” Lily asked, jumping from her chair.

Theo gave her a knowing look, “I think the better question would be ‘who happened?’. He’s been tortured with the cruciatus curse, and we both know where he was this evening.”

Lily frowned and cast a diagnostic charm over Harry then sighed, murmuring a spell that instantly knocked him out. Theo was already supporting Harry’s weight, so he lay him on the sofa.

“The Dark Lord must have had his reasons,” Lily reasoned.

Theo didn’t argue with her, he wasn’t stupid after all, “Uh-huh. Can we do something about this?” he asked, gesturing to Harry’s entire body.

Lily nodded, “Hold his arm tightly, it’s broken, and it looks like he’s used a healing charm to stop an infection, but I’m not entirely sure that it worked.”

Theo did so, and with relative ease, Lily mended his broken arm. Harry, being in a forced sleep, didn’t flinch.

Lily threw a cloth at Theo, which he used to mop up the sweat on Harry’s forehead, “He’s boiling, Lily.”

Lily felt his head and sighed, “That break in his arm, did it pierce the skin?”

Theo removed Harry’s shirt with one tap of his wand, and they saw the wound.

“Fuck,” Theo muttering, “How did he apparate home like that?”

“It probably happened while he was apparating,” Lilly said, pulling the cork off of a bottle of dittany with her teeth, “How he got to you in the common room without passing out though? That shows how resilient he is.”

“Of course he’s resilient,” Theo said, his eyes on the sleeping boy in front of them, “He’s not just been to hell and back, he’s walked through hell with his head held high. The Devil let him go because he realised he was more use to him out here than in there.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at Theo, “Philosophical. Have you been reading again?”

Theo shot her a vaguely amused look, “Here, I’ll do that.”

Lily handed him the dittany, and Theo dabbed it onto the cloth in his hand – he rubbed the dittany onto the wound where Harry’s broken bone had pierced the skin.

The wound began to seal itself shut, and Theo turned to Lily, who was rummaging in a small potions kit, “What do you think he did?”

Lily turned around with a bottle in her hand, “Knowing Harry? He probably answered back when the Dark Lord wasn’t in the mood to let it go. Although,” she frowned and handed him the bottle, “I don’t know why his mood would have changed so drastically. He seemed fine when I left.”

“What did he want with you?” Theo asked curiously.

“Give Harry that potion to flush any toxins from his blood,” Lily ordered.

Theo sighed and did so. He sat on the floor next to Harry with a bucket at the ready in case the flushing potion made him throw up.

Lily frowned, “Are you going to stay there all night?”

“Well, I don’t want him choking on his own sick and dying, do I?” Theo asked rhetorically.

Lily gave him a small smile, “You’re in love with him.”

Theo scoffed, “In love? Come on Black, he’s a good shag, but it’s only been a couple of months.”

“And now you’re deflecting,” Lily said with a knowing look, “Because you can’t admit that I’m right.”

Theo just changed the subject, “How do you know the Dark Lord was in a good mood?”

“Because he and I spoke after the meeting, you know that,” Lily said, somewhat irritably.

“What did you speak about?” Theo asked.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Lily shot back.

Theo sighed, “Fine. I’ll quit asking. I’d probably have more luck speaking to a brick wall than you anyway.”

Lily cast her eyes over Harry one last time then looked at Theo, “I’m saying this because you’re a nice person, and I actually like you, Theo…be careful with Harry.”

Theo frowned, but said nothing as Lily continued, “I can tell you care about him, whether you love him or not, well that depends how deep your denial runs. But I’m not sure he feels the same way about you. After everything he’s been through…I don’t know if he knows what real love looks like anymore.”

Theo’s frown deepened, but he said nothing. Lily just gave him a nod then headed into her bedroom.

* * *

While Theo kept watch over him, Harry dreamed, but his dreams told him how much damage he had done that night. Voldemort was angry, he felt conflicted and so much so that Harry was seeing into his head in a way he hadn’t done since fifth year.

It took Harry a while to work out that the strangely distorted visions were not his own, but Voldemort's. They frequently shifted, from a dark room with a dwindling fireplace and the sound of a baby crying – to a hospital room in St. Mungo’s with a newborn baby in a cot-bed – to an old orphanage.

A young boy was crying on the doorstep, there was a note signed, “I will love you always and forever, Merope – your mother.”

The young Tom had his knees drawn tightly to his chest. Then the scene shifted, and that invisible baby cried some more as flashes of memories and thoughts flitted through Voldemort’s dreams, love potions featured heavily until at last, something jolted Voldemort awake.

It wasn’t enough to break the connection or wake Harry up – Lily had put him in an induced sleep after all. But, the moment Voldemort awoke, he realised that Harry was in his head and his first port of call was to try and push him out.

_Wait!_ Harry thought, _Please, just let me apologise._

_For invading my dreams or my privacy?_ The thought was as sarcastic as it was bitter.

_Both,_ Harry thought back, _I found out about the baby by mistake, I swear. I overheard Bellatrix and Narcissa talking._

Voldemort was silent, so Harry thought, _And I’m sorry for invading your dreams, I didn’t mean to do that either. I think I’m in an induced sleep because I cannot wake myself up whatever I do. I think that’s why my focus is so good too._

_If you are searching for an apology, you will not get one._

_I know,_ Harry thought back to the Dark Lord, _And I don’t expect one. But can I speak frankly?_

_I assume you would do so anyway, even if I said no,_ Voldemort thought dryly.

Harry would have chuckled if he had been awake, but he wasn’t, and he wasn’t in much of a mood for laughing either.

_I’m going to deduce from your dreams that the reason you don’t want this child is because it was conceived under the influence of a love potion but-_

_Do not give me the speech about how it is a myth that those conceived in such a manner cannot love. You and I both know that it is not true. Thanks to Albus Dumbledore, you are the only living person who knows my story._

_Exactly, and your story is what makes me think it’s a myth. I don’t believe you are incapable of love, I think you are scared of it, and I think you grew up not knowing what it was. I can understand that, probably more than anyone else. You accuse me of being rash, but I think your decision about this child is rash._

A pang of pain shot through Harry’s scar, and even in his unconscious state, it hurt, _I know I’m overstepping my bounds, but someone needs to say this to you before it’s too late. You think this child will be just like you, but I think you can give her a better start in life._

There was a long pause.

_Her?_

Harry paused, he had assumed that Voldemort knew that pivotal bit of information.

_Clearly, I do not._

_Bellatrix knows it’s a girl,_ Harry thought to Voldemort. _She said something to Narcissa about how she would be your heir._

There was another long silence then. _I suppose every lord does need an heir._

Harry would have scoffed if he could have, _Is that all this child means to you?_

_What does she mean to you?_ Voldemort countered.

Harry sighed internally, _Honestly? Tom, I think this child can offer you the one thing you have always sought with your brotherhood of Death Eaters but have never actually believed you had._

_And what is that?_ Voldemort thought back; he sounded torn between being curious and irritated.

_The unconditional love of family._

The silence that greeted Harry told him that he was right, that he had pulled the right strings to get Voldemort to change his mind about Bellatrix and their unborn child. He could feel the shift in Voldemort’s conflicting emotions; he could sense the thought about how he would have to talk to Narcissa and then, all of a sudden, it all went black as Voldemort put his walls back up.

*** TBC ***


	26. I'll Scream Til I Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny finally resurfaces, but she makes some waves when she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Avett Brothers.

When Harry woke up and blinked away the sleep in his eyes, he smiled slightly at the sight before him – Theo was fast asleep on a bed of cushions on the floor.

"He watched over you all night."

The voice made Harry jump. He looked up and saw Lily, standing right above the sofa, "What?"

"Theo," Lily said quietly, "He stayed there all night to make sure you were safe. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you, you know?

Harry made a face, "What? No, he's not. We know this is…not that."

Lily gave Harry a look, the kind of look Hermione had given him when she knew he was lying or when he said something idiotic.

"Look, on the subject of relationships and all of that," Harry said, pushing himself into a sitting position, "I don't know what you and the Dark Lord spoke about last night, and it's none of my business, I know."

Lily raised a singular eyebrow.

"But you need to be careful. You don't know who he is."

"I think I am beginning to understand exactly who he is," Lily argued, "He told me things last night, you know? Things about his past."

Harry frowned, "What things?"

"London, the orphanage," Lily said, her eyes on his, "His age, his name – he trusts me, Harry."

"People who the Dark Lord trusts don't always stay alive, Lily," Harry said darkly, "And those things? They are superficial. So you know his name, he probably told you that to show off – did he do the whole fiery writing, 'Tom Marvolo Riddle, no, I am Lord Voldemort' thing?"

Lily frowned, "Marvolo?"

"So no, then?" Harry shook his head and scoffed, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, that's his name – Tom for his muggle father and Marvolo for his wizarding grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt. The man who abused and raped his own daughter, Merope."

Lily swallowed, "The Dark Lord's mother was abused by her own father?"

Harry nodded, "And then she fell in love with a muggle and gave him a love potion. They were married, she fell pregnant, and the baby was born in an orphanage, she named him Tom for his father and died in that same orphanage."

Lily said nothing.

"So yes, Lily, you know his name," Harry said quietly, "But you didn't know the significance of it, and you most certainly don't know anything about his childhood. You know where he was raised, but you don't know how. You don't know what it did to him, and you don't know what he did as a child, the things that turned him into the man he is today. Yes, there might be some redemption for him, but that is a long way down the road, and you might not survive to see it if you carry on as you are at the moment."

Lily grabbed her bag, "I'm a big girl, Harry. I think I can make my own decisions without your input, thank you very much," she glared at him and left, slamming the door shut behind her.

The motion jolted Theo awake, and he looked up at Harry sleepily, "Hey, you're alive."

"Try not to sound so disappointed," Harry said with a weak smile, "I might think you don't like me."

Theo chuckled and got to his feet, "Not disappointed, just half asleep. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet tentatively but finding that he felt remarkably okay, "I'll be fine."

* * *

Harry watched Lily with concern for much of that day, and he was equally worried about the fact Ginny still hadn't been seen. He jogged to catch up with Neville after Herbology that morning to ask him about it.

"Neville, hey," Harry said, catching his breath and falling into step with his old friend.

Neville gave him a suspicious look, "What do you want?"

"Have you seen Ginny?" Harry asked, "I just want to know if she's okay."

Neville laughed humourlessly, "You want to know if she's okay? After you shunned her and her entire fucking family? Now you want to know if she's okay?"

Harry took a step back as Neville lunged at him and reached for his wand.

"I know it makes me a hypocrite, but I thought she had played a bigger part in it than she had-"

Neville had his wand out now, focused on Harry's chest, but Harry wasn't reaching for his wand.

"You didn't even ask her!" Neville yelled, "You just assumed she had given you a bloody love potion of her own accord! She was your friend for years, but you just shunned her on a fucking assumption, just like you shunned Ron and Hermione, and me!"

Neville threw a curse Harry's way, but he ducked to avoid it, "Neville, I won't duel you-"

"Why?" Neville asked furiously, "Because you think I can't beat you? Because you think I'm weak and pathetic?"

"No, I don't think that at all," Harry answered, "I think you could hold your own against me if you were angry enough, which you are. But I don't want to hurt you because despite everything else you _are_ still my friend."

Neville scoffed, "You don't even know what that word means anymore. People are just pieces, to be moved around and used as you see fit."

His words hurt, but they weren't exactly wrong, either. In his haste to get revenge, had Harry become more like Dumbledore than he would care to admit?

"So no, Ginny is not okay," Neville spat, putting his wand away, "And I don't know if she ever will be."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Neville said with such conviction, "You're a coward, Harry."

There were many things that Harry would stand by and take, but that was not one of them. He grabbed Neville by the wrist and gripped him tightly so he could not pull away.

"I am many things, Neville," Harry said, his voice low and quiet, "But I am not a coward. It takes more courage to suffer than to die and trust me, with the things I have had to do to stay alive, I _am_ suffering."

Neville gave Harry a soul-searching look, and Harry loosened his grip on the Gryffindor. Neville pulled his hand out of his grasp with a yank and stalked away, leaving Harry alone on the icy grounds.

* * *

"Something on your mind, Potter?"

Harry looked over – he had been lying on a sofa in the Slytherin common room. He was deep in thought, thinking about Neville and if he would ever be able to get him on his side, and Ginny and what was going on with her. He had shunned Theo's attempts to get his attention and told Draco he didn't feel like playing chess tonight. Blaise hadn't even looked twice at him when he threw himself onto the sofa to brood.

The common room had gradually emptied, but Harry hadn't moved – his eyes had been open the entire time, focused on the shadows that danced across the roof as the sun set above the Black Lake.

The common room was empty now – bar from himself and Daphne Greengrass. She was sitting by the fire, which would go out soon. It had to be midnight, or later, but Harry didn't care much. He didn't usually sleep these days anyway.

"Hmm."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "You don't give much away, do you?"

"Neither do you," Harry quipped, looking away from her once more.

"My father taught me to be guarded," Daphne agreed, "When you come from a family like mine, you have to be. The family secrets don't just concern us; they concern the entirety of the wizarding world. There is no room for error when you safeguard those kinds of secrets."

Harry couldn't help but think that there was no room for error when it came to the secrets he was forced to keep either – the Dark Lords secrets.

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked curiously, "I thought you didn't trust me."

"I don't trust you," Daphne agreed, "I was always told – never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to stay alive."

"Hm," Harry mused, "It's a fair life lesson. Another of your father's, I presume?"

"My mother's actually," Daphne said, "She was a Crouch and she…never had the best start in life, shall we say?"

Harry didn't question Daphne any further on her family history, chiefly because he knew she wouldn't reply and that the question would probably make her close herself off again.

"Okay," Harry said, pushing himself into a sitting position and feeling unbelievably dizzy for doing so, "What did I do to survive? That is a difficult question to answer because I've been surviving my entire life, to be honest with you. I spent ten years trying to survive my abusive Muggle family and then I came to Hogwarts and spent years trying to survive the Dark Lord, the Triwizard Tournament and everything else that was trying to kill me."

Daphne said nothing. She just watched with avid interest as Harry spoke.

"And now, I'm trying to stay alive again but not by being the victim who relies on everyone else to protect him anymore," Harry finished, his eyes locking onto Daphne's.

"This time, I'm keeping myself alive, and that means I have to get my hands dirty."

"Like when you killed Hannah Abbott," Daphne said. It was a statement, not a question.

"I didn't kill Hannah Abbott," Harry said truthfully, "I knew it was going to happen, and I may have helped plan it, but Theo killed her."

Daphne frowned, "You know I could be a spy, and you just threw your boyfriend under like that?"

"I know you're not a spy," Harry said with a small smile, "You're curious, about me, but you're not a spy. Your father is a smart man from all that I know. He would never put his daughters in danger. Not after what happened to Hannah Abbott as a punishment for her father's misjudgement."

Daphne smirked, "You _are_ good. My father is many things, but he puts family first. It's why he won't pick a side."

"And it's why the Dark Lord tried to force his hand in the last war," Harry said with a nod, "But that isn't the way we are operating this time. I told you I wouldn't force you to join us and I mean that. But I _could_ do with a favour."

"A favour?" Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Harry nodded. He leant forward and sighed, looking up at Daphne once more, "You and Lily are friends, aren't you?"

Daphne laughed, "Friends? I don't know about that. We were acquaintances once when she was Lillian Moon. But that was before she found her inner darkness and proclaimed herself as Lilith Black."

"I know," Harry said quietly, "But she's getting herself into a dangerous situation, and she won't listen to me, but she might listen to you."

"Why would she listen to me?" Daphne asked, raising both of her eyebrows.

"Because you're a girl," Harry said honestly, "And girls get this stuff more than guys do. Someone needs to tell her that some dangerous men are just dangerous men. She has this romanticised view of the world, she sees a dangerous man, and she finds it alluring."

Daphne frowned, realising just what Harry was telling her, "She's not…"

"She is," Harry said quietly, "That's the thing about darkness. People are attracted to its power; even the purest hearts are drawn to it."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "You think I'm drawn to your darkness, Potter?"

Harry smirked, "I was referring to Lily and the Dark Lord, but clearly, that struck a chord with you too."

Daphne's irritation with Harry was cast aside by her shock, "She's sleeping with the Dark Lord?"

"Not yet," Harry answered, "But that is certainly the path she is heading down, and if I'm honest, I don't know what lies at the end of that path."

"I do," Daphne said darkly.

Harry looked up at her.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Daphne said, her tone difficult to read, "The Blacks are prone to insanity, that is no secret. Years of inbreeding make the mind unstable, and Lily is a Black, a Black who has shown that she is both powerful and capable of unspeakable acts."

Harry frowned as he contemplated Daphne's words – the similarities between Lily and Bellatrix were endless.

"Lily doesn't have to look into a crystal ball to see her future," Daphne said, meeting Harry's eye, "She just has to look across the table at the next Death Eater meeting."

Harry nodded, wondering what, if anything, could be done to deter Lily from her dangerous pursuit of power.

* * *

Harry was on his way to breakfast the next morning when a familiar voice called him into the hospital wing. He ducked his head in and said, "Yes?"

Narcissa smiled and ushered him over, "Come – I have made tea."

Harry was a little bemused, but he made his way over to Narcissa all the same. She was sitting at the desk in her office. She slid the tea over to him and lifted the lid on a plate full of pastries.

"Uh, thank you," Harry said, picking one of them up, "What have I done to deserve it?"

"I do not know what you said to the Dark Lord, but whatever it was? It was effective," Narcissa said, "He spoke to Bellatrix this morning and assured her that his heir would get the finest treatment once she was born."

Harry frowned, "He said that?"

Narcissa gave a small nod, "I am loyal in my service to the Dark Lord, Harry, but what he had asked me to do…Bellatrix has hidden it well, but she is heavily pregnant and to end a pregnancy so late…"

The blonde woman shook her head, but she didn't need to finish her sentence - Harry understood, and he had felt the same.

"So when is the baby due?" Harry asked it felt strange to be having such a civil conversation about the spawn of the darkest wizard who had ever lived and his most loyal sidekick who was crazily in love with him.

"Mid-January," Narcissa replied, "Around the time of the full moon."

Harry calculated that in his head – so she must have been conceived in May, around the time of Beltane – that made sense.

"And she's sure it's a girl?"

"It is most certainly a girl, I checked myself," Narcissa said, "They seem rather prevalent in the Black family line."

"Hm," Harry sipped his tea, "Yes, there is no male heir. Is there?"

"No, the heir is a girl, but one I doubt will have children of her own any time soon," Narcissa remarked, "What do you think of the newly proclaimed Lilith Black?"

Harry shrugged and sipped his tea, "Hot, a little bit unhinged, insanely smart and with more magical power than she knows what to do with. Also, a little bit in love with the Dark Lord, I believe."

"Yes, she does remind me of Bella when she was that age," Narcissa agreed, "Headstrong, beautiful but stubborn and as you rightfully said, with more magic than she knows what to do with."

"Forgive me if I'm too bold here, Narcissa," Harry said, setting down his cup of tea, "But what happened to Bellatrix to make her so…bloodthirsty?"

Narcissa sighed, "She fell in love with a man who could never love her back."

Harry frowned, "But this is the thing, I don't see that. I see that he _can_ show affection, he has shown it to me and even to Lily. Surely once upon a time, he showed that same affection to Bellatrix?"

"Once upon a time, he did," Narcissa agreed, "But it was to her ruin. He warned her that although he wanted and needed her, he would never love her in the same way that she loved him. She accepted that at the time, but she despises Rodolphus. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, and no affection developed there."

"You were different though, weren't you?" Harry asked, "You and Lucius?"

"Lucius and I's marriage was as arranged as Bella's was," Narcissa confessed, "But Lucius is a good man, and it did not take me very long to fall in love with him. He has been nothing but loyal and true to me, and despite difficult circumstances, he has strived to be the best father he can be, for Draco."

Harry gave a small nod, that much was true. Anyone who spent any time with the Malfoys could tell that the love they had for their family was unconditional.

"Bella thought she could live without that," Narcissa said, "She wrongly assumed that companionship with Rodolphus and her affair with the Dark Lord would make her happy and to begin with, it did. Then the Dark Lord met his downfall and Bella went to Azkaban. Before that, yes, she was stupidly in love, and she did whatever the man she loved asked, but she was sane."

Harry frowned and let Narcissa finish her story.

"When she came out…" Narcissa shook her head, "She was manic, Azkaban had warped and twisted her beyond repair. I love her, of course, she is still my sister, but she is not the girl I grew up with, not anymore."

Harry leant back in his chair and sighed, "Do you know something? The complicated relationships between you and your two sisters, I think it might be happening again."

Narcissa frowned, "What do you mean?"

"The Greengrass sisters," Harry said, "I found something out yesterday, I haven't told the Dark Lord yet, and I've been shielding from him," he tapped his ear to show Narcissa the soft glint of the beetle that Lucius had given him for his birthday.

"But I discovered something about Lydia."

"The elder sister who was disowned?"

Harry nodded, "She's working with the light – not the militant faction thankfully. I don't think Daphne knows; I don't know if her father knows either."

"Cygnus will know," Narcissa said quietly.

Harry looked up, "You're acquainted?"

Narcissa shook her head, "No, but before I was engaged to be married to Lucius – there were talks about a match between myself and Cygnus. Lucius was preferable; the Malfoy family held political hierarchy and were becoming more influential than even the ancient Greengrass family. Bella had joined the Dark Lord, and the Malfoy family were known to have links to him as well. Whereas the Greengrass family were staunchly neutral."

"Right," Harry said, leaning forward, "So what is your take on Cygnus Greengrass then?"

"I truly do not think he will ever change his stance," Narcissa confessed, "He is a noble man whose love for his family is above all else. His daughters are as stubborn and headstrong as he is."

"Don't you see that the parallels are there though? Lydia – disowned and working for the light, all because she married a muggle-born and gave birth to a squib. Astoria – who will likely end up being married off to Draco, just as you were married off to Lucius," Harry said, looking up at Narcissa.

"And Daphne, the girl with more power than she ever lets show. The girl who constantly battles to keep her emotions beneath the surface."

Narcissa smiled slightly, "Draco did tell me that you were intrigued by the girl."

"Yes," Harry agreed, "I think I can get her on our side, Narcissa."

Narcissa gave him a small smile, "I know you do, and it is that ambition that draws the Dark Lord to you."

Harry knew that she doubted him, but he brushed it aside and allowed himself to celebrate the victory – Voldemort would not be abandoning his heir, and maybe, just maybe, he could learn how to love something.

* * *

"Ginny, I know I said I would sit outside your door for as long as it took and not say a word, but it's been over a month now."

There was no response, and Neville sighed. He was sitting in Bill's quarters with his back against the wooden door into the spare room that Ginny had occupied for the last month.

"You obviously want to live because you have been eating the food that the elves give you, but you need to talk to someone," Neville continued, resting his head against the door, "I'm not going to shut up until you let me in. I can tell you about over 1,000 types of British magical plants and fungi if you want. We'll start with A, and I'll tell you all about the healing properties of Aconite – it's quite fascinating you know, how something so poisonous can also be used to heal some of the worst diseases in the – oomph!"

The door clicked open of its own accord, and Neville slipped backwards, hitting his head on the stone floor. He cursed and scrambled to his feet, rubbing his head as he did so. The door shut with a loud snap and Neville looked over to the bed where Ginny was sitting in a pair of pyjama bottoms and an old baggy top. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun, and she looked positively miserable, but Neville just breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're alive, thank Merlin."

Ginny gave him an irritated look, "You said you wanted to talk, so talk."

"I'm worried about you, and so is Bill," Neville confessed, "I know this is hard, but you can't isolate yourself in here, you need to come out-"

"What right do you have to judge?" Ginny asked in disbelief, "You have no idea what this is like!"

She pushed herself to her feet and yelled, "My own mother used me and lied to me! For my whole life, Neville, I was just a useful player in her game, not her daughter!"

Neville reached out, concerned by the amber glow to her hazel eyes, "Ginny, just-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Ginny screamed, pushing Neville away and burning him with accidental magic.

Neville hissed in pain, but didn't leave, "Ginny, please-"

"You don't understand!" She shrieked, "And you can't judge my choices when you don't understand my reasons!"

Neville watched warily as her hands glowed orange, releasing energy that could do severe damage if left unchecked. She had always been volatile – fighting to keep her emotions in check, to keep her anger from spilling over.

"I hate them!" Ginny screamed, "I hate them all! I hate Dumbledore, and I hate my parents, _I hate the light_!"

Neville took a step forward to try and grab her before she could lose control, but it was too late. With an ear-splitting scream, Ginny fell to her knees and held her head. The force of the scream threw Neville back against the heavy wooden door. He clamped his hands over his ears to try and block out the noise.

The glass vase by the bed shattered, and then the windows followed – breaking as Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs. It wasn't an ordinary scream, it was otherworldly, and if he was honest, it scared the shit out of Neville.

He pushed himself towards her through the forceful wind that her scream was creating. Neville grabbed her by the side of the face when he reached her, and she stopped screaming. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't hear a thing, but Neville pulled Ginny towards him and kissed her hard. It seemed to do the trick, to take away the rage that was fuelling her. But when the anger was gone, all that was left was exhaustion.

She slumped down onto Neville's shoulder, and he got to his feet unsteadily, trying to keep his balance with the ringing in his ears. Thankfully, Bill ran in at that point – it was evident that he was shouting, but Neville could not make out a word of what he was saying and for the first time, he began to panic.

* * *

"Harry!"

Before he had time to process what was happening, Harry was lying on top of Luna Lovegood in a secret passageway.

"Uh, Luna, hi?"

Luna shoved him off of her fiercely, "Harry Potter, this is no time for civilities!"

Harry frowned, "Luna, we haven't even spoken this year. What is going on?"

"Neville and Ginny are in the hospital wing," Luna said, looking around warily, "Didn't you hear the scream?"

Harry looked up sharply, "The scream? That was a person? It sounded like a banshee. I thought it came from the Forbidden Forest."

Luna shook her head, "It was the scream of a banshee, but it didn't come from the forest."

Harry's eyes widened, "Ginny? That was _Ginny?_ It broke all the windows on that side of the castle!"

"I know," Luna said quietly, "So imagine what it did to the person who was in the room with her."

"Neville," Harry realised, his eyes wide with horror.

Luna took his hand and pulled him out of the secret passageway. He let her pull him through the school to the hospital wing, and thankfully the corridors were quiet which saved him from getting funny looks from too many Slytherins.

When they reached the hospital wing, Harry saw Narcissa's silhouette working behind a screen. He scanned the hospital wing and saw Ginny, curled up on her side, fast asleep in a hospital bed.

"Narcissa," Harry said, approaching the screen, "It's Harry. Can I come in?"

"Yes, you may," Narcissa's voice returned.

Harry gave Luna a small smile and slipped behind the screen. He looked at the hospital bed and swallowed when he saw Neville's ears, dried blood stained both sides of his face.

"How bad is it?"

Narcissa shook her head and lowered her voice, "This was no ordinary scream – it was the scream of a banshee. Frankly, Harry, it's a miracle that he's alive."

"But how is this possible?" Harry asked in an undertone, "I didn't think that banshees could be created, I thought they were born?"

"They are," Narcissa agreed, "They were originally a race, native to Ireland and Scotland mostly, but they died out hundreds of years ago. It is believed that bloodlines can be cursed, however, with a 'banshee' curse. How true that is, I am not sure, but I do know that banshees are fuelled by rage, hence the fatal scream."

Harry's frown deepened, "So Neville…"

"There is nothing I can do to repair his hearing," Narcissa admitted sadly.

"And Ginevra…her case is undocumented, but she seems to have unlocked something inside of herself, and I fear that having done so, her abilities will spiral out of her control without someone to help her understand them."

"Does this mean she'll still be human or…?" Harry trailed off – every image of a banshee that he saw was of a woman with a gaunt face and long, untamed hair.

"Banshees are immortal," Narcissa said softly, "It takes something extraordinary to kill them but left alone? They will never perish. That comes with a cost, of course, skin cannot go on forever, it perishes leaving the skeletal image of a banshee that we come to know."

"And there is no cure?" Harry asked, his heart aching for Ginny. He felt responsible for all of this.

Narcissa shook her head, "No. She will age at a normal rate for a powerful witch or wizard, but when she gets to around 300, that is when her body will begin to perish. After 500 years, she will no longer perform magic – banshees live for too long. They forget their humanity and become fuelled only by rage and hunger."

Harry sat down next to Neville's bed and sighed, it was a most world-weary sigh, "If this is in her blood, does that mean that her mother is one too?"

"It is entirely possible," Narcissa replied, "Banshees are an entirely female race, but if this is a blood curse then the males could still be carriers. But with the way Molly Weasley acts…there is a chance that she has unleashed her inner banshee."

Harry frowned as he contemplated that, "But Molly won't do anything to help Ginny because it would mean showing her face here and if she's the last Prewett then there's no one to explain this to Ginny."

"There may be someone who can help," Narcissa said cryptically, "Leave it to me."

Harry nodded and let his head drop into his hands, "If we can't get a tame banshee here to talk to Ginny, she'll spiral out of control, and the Dark Lord will have me kill her."

"You are quite right," Narcissa said, her eyes on Neville as he slept soundly.

"I assume her father has been informed?" Harry asked, glancing around the hospital wing, "And where is Bill?"

"He is bringing Arthur and Charles here to see Ginevra," Narcissa replied.

"Wonderful," Harry remarked sarcastically.

Narcissa smiled sympathetically at Harry then left to tend to Ginny. There was some rustling as Luna pushed the curtain aside and sat down on the other side of Neville's bed.

"You heard that I guess?" Harry asked her.

Luna nodded, looking at Neville instead of Harry.

"I tried to warn her."

Harry looked up sharply, "You knew Ginny was a banshee?"

Luna sighed; a world-weary sound that seemed strange coming from her. She was usually so upbeat and optimistic.

"Her eyes," Luna said, looking up at Harry, "They glow amber when she loses her temper. It's the first sign of the banshee trying to get out, just like advanced hearing is the first thing werewolves notice when they wake up from being bitten. I told Ginny that but she just laughed at me."

Harry found himself thinking of the boy who cried wolf, which was how he had always thought of Luna, but what if she had been right all along? What if she had just always been ignored because of her strange ways?

"What do you mean, about the banshee trying to get out?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ginny isn't a banshee; the banshee is inside her," Luna said, her voice quiet, "Someone put a blood curse on the family a long time ago, trapping a tribe of banshees in the Prewett blood-line. It's ancient, dark magic, probably stemming from a time when magical families were fighting for dominance in Wales."

Harry frowned.

Luna bit her lip, "But now that Ginny has screamed, she has unlocked the door."

"So the banshee is a magical creature inside her head?" Harry asked in surprise, "Another conscience?"

Luna nodded, "She will spend her whole life fighting it for control."

"Isn't there a way they can both live in Ginny's body, harmoniously?" Harry asked.

Luna's eyes darkened, "Ginny would have to appease the banshee. She would have to keep it fed and satisfied."

"Kills," Harry realised, "She would have to let go of control every so often and let it kill, that's how it feeds."

"It is both a curse and an aid," Luna said quietly, "If she lets it kill, they can co-exist harmoniously, and it will whisper to her when the death of a family member is imminent. Enabling her to save someone she loves who would have otherwise died but…"

"She has to be okay with unleashing it, and relinquishing her control," Harry said with a nod.

Luna said nothing.

"What would happen if she kept fighting it for control?" Harry asked, thinking of Molly Weasley.

"It would drive her insane over the years," Luna replied.

_Well, that explains it,_ Harry thought to himself – Molly was a banshee too, but she fought to keep it caged at the expense of her mental health.

Harry sighed, "Luna, I hope you know that despite everything I've done, I have no intention of hurting you."

Luna looked at him, warily, "Why?"

"Because you're my friend, and I care about you," Harry answered honestly, "Your family have done nothing to offend the Dark Lord, and if it remains that way, then we are content to leave you in peace. We don't want to be needlessly wiping out already fragile magical bloodlines."

Luna took Neville's hand, "Daddy and I won't fight, not for you or your lord, not for anyone."

Harry took that as Luna's way of agreeing that she and her father would keep their heads down. He opened his mouth to thank her, but before he could, she spoke again.

"But we're not friends anymore, Harry," Luna said with a note of finality.

The comment hurt, more than Harry thought that it would, but he couldn't argue with it. He looked down at Neville and nodded.

"I understand, but I am sorry, Luna."

* * *

Harry had his feet propped up on the edge of Neville's bed and was immersed in a book when a tap on the shoulder distracted him. He leant back and looked up into Theo's face.

"Hey," Theo said.

"Hey," Harry returned, fighting back a yawn, "Draco tell you I was here?"

"Yep, didn't tell me why though," Theo said, narrowing his eyes at the book in Harry's hand, "Why are you reading about banshees?"

Harry sighed and nodded his head in the direction of Ginny's bed. Arthur was sitting by her side, with his hand in his little girl's. Bill paced the floor behind them, noticeably anxious and checking his watch every few minutes.

Theo opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but Harry shook his head and brought a finger to his lips – the doors to the hospital wing had just opened, and Charlie strode in, his eyes seeking out Bill.

"Charlie," Bill said, breathing a sigh of relief and pulling his brother into a bear hug.

Charlie was wearing a plaid shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up showing off the tattoo's on his arms – a welsh green wove its way around his right arm and on his left arm was the Dark Mark. It didn't deter Arthur though, the moment he saw his son, he stood and pulled him into his arms.

Charlie shut his eyes tightly and hugged his father back, looking down at Ginny with concern in his eyes.

"I'll be back in a second, Theo," Harry murmured, getting to his feet and crossing the hospital wing.

Arthur saw him first, and although he looked wary, he did not openly draw his wand on Harry.

"How is she?"

Bill sighed and shook his head, "Not good."

"I was late because I was talking to Felix about all of this," Charlie explained quietly, "He had a friend from Ireland whose bloodline got cursed by Morgana le Fay. The curse was dark, so dark it had the potential to trap magical creatures in the bloodline, and it seems like nothing can break it, short of running its course until all of the trapped creatures get out via the descendants of that bloodline."

"What happened to his friend?" Bill asked.

Charlie swallowed and shook his head, "She killed herself, went mad from trying to keep the magical creature at bay as it tried to over-ride her conscience."

"Not it, _her_ ," Harry said.

Bill frowned, but Charlie nodded, "Harry's right, the banshee in Ginny is a magical creature, not a thing."

Arthur looked from Ginny to the screen that covered Neville, "Is the young man going to be okay?"

Harry sighed and glanced at Neville, "He's deaf. Both of his eardrums burst when Ginny screamed, Narcissa said it was a miracle that he didn't die."

"He saved Ginny's life," Charlie said quietly, taking Ginny's hand, "She had no idea what she was, the scream would have consumed her unless someone stopped her."

"He risked his own life to save her," Bill realised, looking over at Neville.

"Of course he did," Harry said, his voice quiet but raw with emotion, "He's a true Gryffindor."

Charlie squeezed Ginny's hand, and Harry leant against the wall, surveying the family with interest.

"What will you do, Arthur?"

Arthur looked over at Harry, surprised to be addressed.

"Will you keep her in school?" Harry continued, "I can protect her if you choose to do so."

Arthur looked wary, but Bill placed his hand on his father's shoulder, "Harry is the best person in the school to do that, Dad."

"Assuming Ginny lets him," Charlie added darkly.

"I think when she wakes up, Ginny might realise that she and I have more in common than she realised," Harry said, his eyes on the redheaded girl who looked so frail all of a sudden.

"Did you know about the banshee blood curse, Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head.

"So you don't know if Molly is…" Harry trailed off.

Charlie scoffed, "Of course she is. It would explain why Mum acts schizophrenic at times."

Arthur swallowed and looked down, "Sometimes she could be so amenable…just like the girl I knew at school and then it was as if a switch had been flicked."

"The banshee took control," Harry said with a nod. He took a seat by Ginny's bed, "Look, Arthur, I'll be honest with you - I'm not going to feed all of this back to the Dark Lord, but the secret won't be kept forever. People are already whispering about what happened, and the word "banshee" has come up more than once. There are other Death Eaters here, believe it or not, who are more loyal than me and they would jump at the chance to relay this information. I do think, though, that Ginny is safer at Hogwarts than she would be anywhere else."

Arthur said nothing.

"I know you don't think you can trust me," Harry admitted, "But I have no personal issue with you, or with the majority of your family and nor does the Dark Lord. He was happy to welcome Bill and Charlie into his ranks, and as Charlus's brother, you are safe. I will never pressure you into joining us or taking a side, and I can promise you that you are not on the Dark Lords radar."

Arthur sighed and rested his head against his index fingers, "But Molly is."

"Everyone affiliated with the Army of the Phoenix is," Harry said, meeting Arthur's eye, "So I would suggest that you stay away from her and the idiots she is working with."

"She did this to Ginny, Dad," Bill said, his blue eyes meeting Arthur's almost identical ones, "She knew what she was, she knew what Ginny would become and she never even warned her! She pushed Charlie and me away, she's the reason the twins and Hermione ran off and now…Ginny's life is changed forever _because_ of her."

Arthur swallowed and nodded, "Trust me, I am not in any way affiliated with her. The moment I found out about Ginny…I told her in no uncertain terms that she was living in my house and that I no longer wanted her there. She left, and I changed the wards."

"Do Fred and George know?" Charlie asked.

"And is Hermione okay?" Harry prodded.

Bill scoffed, "You've some nerve, asking about Hermione after the things you've accused her of."

"I know, but I was wrong," Harry said, guilt flitting across his face, "Just like I was wrong about Ginny."

"She is okay, Harry," Arthur said, tentatively placing his hand on Harry's arm, "They are on the run, keeping their heads down and not taking a side. They don't fight for the light or the dark, but Hermione is keeping the boys alive, and they are keeping her spirits up."

Harry nodded, "Good," he said, a wave of relief washing over him.

"And I will inform them about Ginny," Arthur said, looking down at his daughter, "As soon as I get a chance to do so without compromising their position."

Harry was about to ask some more questions, this time about Ron, but before he got a chance, Theo called, "Harry? He's waking up."

Harry turned and saw Neville, shuffling and opening his eyes, "I had better go, but I meant what I said, Arthur. Regardless of what side you take, or whether you remain neutral, I still feel incredibly grateful to you for what you have done for me over the years."

Arthur gave Harry a half-hearted smile, "And I for you, Harry."

Harry gave the older man a respectful nod then jogged across the hospital wing again, to stand by Neville's side. The dark-haired boy was looking around in confusion, he tried to talk, but because he couldn't hear himself, it came out as a shout, "WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Harry placed his hand on Neville's shoulder and brought a finger up to his lips. Neville stopped struggling and looked at Harry – his eyes wide, full of fear and confusion.

In the air, Harry wrote, " _Ginny is a banshee. You are deaf."_

Neville scrambled for his wand, and Theo grabbed it from the bedside table. He handed it to the Gryffindor and wrote in the air, " _Close your eyes and concentrate. It's difficult to do speechless magic at the best of times, and you are recovering from a serious injury_."

Neville glared at Theo and wrote, " _I know."_

Harry smiled half-heartedly at Theo, "Neville's a damn sight more powerful than he lets on."

If the comment had put Theo's nose out of joint, he didn't let on.

Harry averted his attention to Neville, who had just written, " _A banshee?"_

Harry nodded and wrote, " _Through the Prewett line. Long story but I will catch you up once I have taught you sign language."_

Neville frowned, " _You know sign language?"_

Harry nodded, " _Lily taught me when I couldn't speak. She will be able to teach you."_

Neville sighed and shut his eyes, rubbing them hard. Harry shot Theo a wary look, and Theo sighed. It was terrible news to have to break to someone, especially someone as magically powerful as Neville.

When he opened his eyes, Neville wrote, " _Is Ginny okay?"_

Theo snorted, "He wants to know that? After what she did to him?"

"It's Neville," Harry said, a small smile on his face, "He's always cared for others more than he cares for himself."

Neville was watching their lips, trying to make out their words, but from the frown on his face, he clearly couldn't manage.

Harry wrote in the air, _"I don't know. This will certainly change her life and when she finds out that she hurt you,"_ he shrugged, " _It will be hard for her."_

Neville shook his head then winced, grabbing his ears and crying out in pain.

Harry grimaced and wrote, " _Yeah, don't do that. You have had a pretty severe injury. You'll be holed up in here for a while."_

Neville sighed and looked at him, " _Why are you here?"_

Theo cut in, holding up his wand and writing, " _He has been here all day, and he has been reading up on banshee's to help you and Ginny even though we should view you both as the enemy. Try to be fucking grateful, Longbottom."_

Harry nudged Theo in the ribs and muttered, "Not fucking helpful. Go back to the common room, and I'll talk to you there."

Theo rolled his eyes but left all the same. When Harry turned back to Neville, his old friend was raising an eyebrow at him. He wrote in the air, " _Trouble in paradise?"_

Harry snorted and gave him the middle finger and Neville chuckled.

" _Universal sign for fuck you,"_ Harry wrote.

Neville smiled, " _You two do kind of make a cute couple though."_

Harry gave him a long-suffering look, " _You need to learn sign language, my arm is getting sore."_

" _Maybe you should get Nott on the case,"_ Neville wrote, and as much as Harry wanted to glare at Neville, he ended up chuckling because it felt so good to be somewhere close to civil again.

*** TBC ***


	27. What About All the Broken Happy Ever Afters?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa has a plan to help Ginny, but does Ginny want to be helped?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> What About Us? By P!nk.

When Fitzroy Mulciber sauntered into the hospital wing, he made sure that everyone knew about it.

"Narcissa!"

On the other side of the room, Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Fitzroy, this is a hospital wing. Could you please refrain from shouting at the top of your lungs?"

Harry bit back an amused grin and watched the scene play out from his perch by Neville's bed.

Fitz grinned at Narcissa and walked towards her with his usual swagger.

"Things must be serious if _you_ are inviting _me_ here to discuss matters. Didn't you tell me that you hated me?"

"I am sure that my words were not quite that harsh, Fitzroy," Narcissa said evenly.

Fitz raised an eyebrow at her, "I'm pretty sure you said that calling me Satan was an insult to Satan."

Narcissa crossed her arms, "You tried to sleep with my husband."

Fitz grinned.

"On our wedding day," Narcissa added, raising both eyebrows.

"Well," Fitz mused, "Nobody's perfect?"

Harry snorted and got to his feet, "Narcissa, care to explain why Fitz would know anything about banshees? Unless you just invited him here because he's Irish which would be very stereotypical and moderately offensive."

At the word 'banshee', Fitz paled and dropped his usual suave pretence. He looked Narcissa in the eye darkly.

"You didn't mention a banshee before you invited me here."

"Because I knew if I did, you would not come," Narcissa said, "You are a coward, Fitzroy. You never fought for Bethel, so why would you help her niece?"

Fitz turned around and looked at Ginny, his breath catching in his throat.

Harry frowned, he felt incredibly out of the loop, which came as a surprise to him because he usually knew what was going on these days thanks to Draco.

"How fucking dare you?" Fitz hissed, turning back to Narcissa, "First you lured me here under false pretences, and then you have the nerve to bring up Beth? Yeah, I never fought for her because she obviously wanted to leave. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone without so much as a goodbye!"

Narcissa did look a little apologetic.

"So yeah, Narcissa, I let her go, and if you honestly think I'll ever forgive myself for that then you don't fucking know me at all," Fitz barked, "But I never stopped looking for her, and when I found her, I never stopped keeping an eye on her."

Narcissa sighed, "I'm sorry for luring you here under false pretences, but you would not have come otherwise, and that girl needs your help. Bethel knew what she would become, her mother warned her and educated her, but Molly Weasley did not utter a word of the curse to her daughter."

Fitz glanced unwittingly at Ginny again.

"She has no idea how to deal with what she is," Narcissa said softly, "And she has no one who can guide her. Look at her, Fitzroy."

Fitz did, he properly looked at Ginny. She was still lying on her side, curled up in the foetal position.

Narcissa took his hand and spoke quietly, "If you don't look at her and see Bethel lying in the wreckage after the massacre that killed her brothers, then you're lying, Fitzroy."

Fitz looked away from Ginny and glared at Narcissa, pulling his hand out of her grasp as he did so.

"You have no right to bring that up."

Harry looked between them and stepped in.

"Look, I know that this is a personal thing between you two and I'm just speculating here, but I'm going to hazard a guess that Bethel is Molly's sister and that she went banshee after her brothers were killed?"

Narcissa nodded.

"Okay, I know Dolohov was one of the people who killed Gideon and Fabian Prewett so how the hell did he survive that?" Harry asked.

"He had been sent back to headquarters already," Fitz replied, trying his hardest not to look at Ginny, "He wasn't there when Beth got home and saw their bodies or when Molly got there and stopped her."

Harry looked up with interest at that.

"She was heavily pregnant and stopping her sister from burning herself out with the scream forced her into labour early," Fitz said. He sighed and leant against one of the thick windowsills in the room.

"She gave birth to her baby a month early, _that_ baby," he nudged his head in Ginny's direction, "And she couldn't have any more after what happened."

"So Bethel ran away, filled with guilt over her sister's plight and sorrow over the loss of her brothers'," Narcissa finished.

"And she was your…friend?" Harry guessed.

Fitz laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. It was bitter, full of anger, "Friend? No mate, she was my fiancée, and because of that, she and her family were supposed to have protection."

"They did have protection, Fitz," Narcissa said firmly, "And they would have been allowed to live if they hadn't just murdered Gaius Wilkes in cold blood, he wasn't even a Death Eater, but because his father was, they felt it was okay to slay him where he stood."

_So it had been revenge?_ Harry realised, _Well that explains why their deaths were so brutal, I suppose._

"Molly was allowed to live because of Bethel's connection to you," Narcissa reminded Fitz, "The brothers chose their fate, and yes, because of that, you lost Bethel."

"Stop calling her Bethel," Fitz snapped, "She hated that, she was Beth, she was always Beth."

Harry tried to intervene again, "Was she younger than Molly?"

Fitz glared at Narcissa one last time and looked at Harry.

"Yeah, she was my age. We went to school together, with your parents actually. I was in Slytherin, obviously, but Beth, she was a Ravenclaw. She was the baby of the family; Molly had already left school by the time she started, so she always felt a bit like an outcast. Her family shunned her when she told them she was going to marry me, they were a light family and the name 'Mulciber' wasn't one that made any of them happy, but she didn't care."

Harry didn't think he had ever heard Fitz say so much or talk so softly.

"Then she went banshee and left me with some bullshit note about how she hadn't meant to kill my friends, but that she needed to be alone, somewhere cold where she could concentrate and learn how to live with the beast inside of her," Fitz said bitterly, "I never saw her again, but I keep tabs on her. She island-hops, splits her time between the western isles of Scotland and some of the more remote Irish islands, every now and then a tourist goes missing because that's how she stays sane and keeps herself alive, she feeds the beast."

Harry sighed, "I'm sorry, Fitz. I'm sorry that you got dealt a shitty hand and I'm sorry for what I'm about to ask you but-"

"I'm not going to bring her here," Fitz said stubbornly.

"Look at that girl, Fitzroy," Narcissa said, firmly this time, "You know that Beth could help her, and more than that, you know that she would want to. She never had the chance to meet Ginevra, and I am sure she still carries some guilt over the fact her unleashing the banshee sent her sister into labour."

"Yeah I'm sure she does, but I'm not reliving that fucking trauma, Narcissa," Fitz growled, "I'm not hauling the girl I've been trying to forget for the past 16 years back here when clearly, she doesn't wanna be here!"

"You won't do it because you're a coward," Narcissa said coolly, "Because your fear of Bethel rejecting you again is stronger than your will to help _that_ girl. That is the truth, Fitzroy, so enough with the excuses and out with it – admit that you are too much of a coward to do anything about this."

"Look, Fitz," Harry cut in.

"Imagine how Beth felt when she knew what was happening to her. Then imagine how she would have felt if she had deafened you when she let the banshee out because that's what just happened to her," he nudged his head in Ginny's direction, "She deafened the guy she's in love with because he risked everything to stop her burning herself out, like Molly did for Beth."

Fitz swallowed.

"And because Molly lost it, probably because she's been fighting her own banshee for her entire life, Ginny spent the last two years trying to seduce me when she should have been with Neville," Harry said quietly, "She broke free of her mother's compulsion charms, only for this to happen and now Neville is never going to hear Ginny say that she loves him."

Harry shook his head and sighed, "Imagine how that would feel, Fitz – your world being silent, never hearing those words from the girl you love. Then, and you don't have to imagine this part because you've lived it, she leaves, she can't handle what she's done, and she runs away."

Fitz turned around and looked out of the window.

"Beth left you because she was scared," Harry finished, "But you can make sure that Ginny doesn't make the same mistake. You can find Beth, you can bring her here, and you can stop Neville going through what you had to go through."

"Damnit kid," Fitz cursed, turning to look at Harry, "Enough with the big speeches and the puppy dog eyes, I'll do it."

Harry grinned, and Fitz prodded him in the chest, "But – don't expect me to be happy about it."

"I never expect happiness from you, Fitz," Harry countered.

Fitz rolled his eyes, " _If_ I find her, I'll try and convince her to come here, but I won't force her if she doesn't want to."

He didn't wait for them to argue; he just turned on his heel and stalked from the hospital wing.

Narcissa smiled down at Harry, "That was well-played, congratulations."

Harry sighed, "Let's just hope that he can find Beth now."

Narcissa's smile was as cryptic as it was knowing, "He does not need to search for her, Harry. He knows where she is; he always knows where she is."

Harry looked at the door that Fitz had just exited through, "This is why he's the way he is. Going from girl to guy as quickly as he does, he can't commit after what happened to Beth?"

Narcissa nodded.

"You think they can rekindle the fire?" Harry asked curiously.

Narcissa gave Harry an amused look, "My, Harry, I never had you down as a romantic."

Harry snorted and made his way over to Neville's bed, "Don't give all my secrets away, Narcissa," he teased.

* * *

Harry was dozing in the hospital wing when footsteps woke him up. The lights were dimmed so he could tell that it was relatively late – a glance at the clock told him that it had just gone midnight.

Harry rubbed his eyes with a yawn and sat up straight, focusing on the two people who had strode into the hospital wing together. It was Fitz and Harry guessed that the woman with him was Beth, but she couldn't look more different to her sister if she tried. She was relatively tall, at least the same height as him and even though she was in her mid 30's, she possessed a youthful beauty – her heart-shaped face was framed by long, deep red hair. Her hazel eyes were identical to Ginny's, but they lacked the warmth of Ginny's eyes.

"Fitz!" Harry chirped, "You found her."

Beth raised an eyebrow at him, "Excuse me, _her_ has a name."

Fitz shot the woman a side-long look, "I see you listened intently to what I said about not pissing off the Dark Lords favourite people, Beth."

Beth smirked at Fitzroy, "I listened, Fitz, I just elected to ignore you. I can stick up for myself after all, or Riona can, anyway."

"Riona?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"My inner banshee, she has a name like all other magical creatures," Beth said, her eyes on Ginny's pale form, "Once I learned how to live with her, I found her to be quite amenable."

Harry was struggling to get a hold on this, "So you two are friends, then?"

Beth gave Harry a long, searching look, "No. She takes over my body once every couple of months and brutally kills someone to keep her appetite sated so I wouldn't say we were friends – grudging acquaintances at best."

Harry grimaced, and Fitz grinned in amusement from Beth's side.

"Right, sorry," Harry said sheepishly, "You're Beth then?"

"In the flesh," Beth replied, "Which means you are Harry Potter?"

"All day, every day, unfortunately," Harry replied dryly.

Fitz snorted and Harry nudged his head in the Irishman's direction.

"And you, Fitz, I've not seen you this happy since I told you the story about Draco getting turned into a ferret. It doesn't take a genius to work out how you convinced Beth to come home."

Beth laughed at that and Fitz rolled his eyes.

"You think he seduced me?" She asked, her eyes sparkling in amusement, "Gee, kid, you are pretty green."

"Green?" Harry asked in amusement, "You've told her who I am, haven't you Fitz?"

"Yeah, mate, but she's had a hungry banshee inside her for the past 16 years, so you killing a few folk in the last six months does kind of pale in comparison," Fitz pointed out with a shrug.

Harry looked between Fitz and Beth, "How _did_ you two reconcile, exactly?"

"Well, it was pretty simple," Fitz said sarcastically, "I found her, I told her she'd been stupid for leaving in the first place because I didn't give a shit about the four mediocre Death Eaters she had killed. Then she pinned me down, accused me of stalking her for the last 16 years and cursed me."

Beth smirked.

"And then we fucked," Fitz finished matter of factly, "For hours and hours, and hours."

Harry snorted, "So is this your happy ever after then, Fitz?"

Fitz fixed Harry with a long-suffering look, "Yeah, mate, we're planning a May wedding," he replied, just as sarcastically.

With a roll of her eyes, Beth looked away from the two men to focus her attention on Ginny, "Is this her?"

Harry nodded, his own eyes on the vulnerable girl, "Yeah, this is her – Ginevra Molly Weasley – in the flesh."

"Wow," Beth said dryly, "My sister, so un-imaginative. She named her only daughter after herself?"

Harry shrugged, not quite sure how to respond to that.

"She doesn't look like Molly," Fitz said, cocking his head to look at Ginny, "She looks more like you."

"Lucky her," Beth said aerily.

A soft groan sounded from the bed in front of them, and Ginny began to shift. Her eyes fluttered as if she was trying to open them but struggling to do so.

Beth took a step forward and knelt by Ginny's bed, "It's okay, love," she said softly.

Ginny frowned – Harry supposed she was trying to place the voice. It would have sounded familiar to her because Beth spoke with the same tone as Molly; her voice was just softer.

Ginny opened her eyes with another groan and blinked a few times as she tried to place the face in front of her. Before she had a chance to ask who she was, Ginny felt a flood of heat rush over her, and she gasped, "What…why…"

"You are hot because you are panicking," Beth said. She placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders and murmured, " _Frigus Compriment."_

Ginny shivered and breathed a sigh of relief as a wave of cold rushed through her body. She pushed herself up the bed and looked at Beth strangely, "Who are you…your eyes are…just like mine."

Beth smiled slightly, "That is because we both have the Prewett eyes, my love."

Ginny's frown deepened, and Fitz chuckled. Ginny looked up in alarm, her eyes flitting between Fitz and Harry.

Beth gave Fitz a scalding look, "My name is Bethel Prewett. I don't suppose your mother ever mentioned me?"

"Um…no," Ginny said, frowning into the eyes of the woman, "Why? Who are you to my mother?"

"I'm her sister," Beth said, not breaking eye contact with Ginny, "I'm your Aunt Beth."

Ginny opened her mouth then shut it; her frown deepened, "Bill…Bill said we had an aunt, he said she died in the Death Eater attack that killed my uncles."

Pain flashed through Beth's eyes, and they shone amber, making Ginny's eye widen.

"Calm down, love," Fitz murmured, placing a supportive hand on Beth's shoulder.

Ginny looked wary at this because it was well-known that Fitz was a Death Eater.

"I arrived home to find my brothers dead," Beth said, trying to keep her voice even, "And in my grief, I lost control of my magic and my emotions. I screamed, and the banshee inside of me was unleashed, so I left, and my dear sister never came to look for me."

"She saved your life," Fitz murmured.

"And sometimes I wish she hadn't!" Beth snapped, her eyes flashing amber once more, "And that is the first lesson you must learn, Ginny. There will be times when you will wish that the scream had killed you."

Ginny shook her head, her eyes wide, "What do you mean? I'm not a banshee! Why would you say that?"

"Stop!" Beth snapped, gripping Ginny's wrists as the young girl's eyes glowed amber, "You must control yourself, or you will hurt someone again."

Ginny calmed down instantly, her wide eyes on her newfound aunts, "Hurt somebody? Who did I hurt?"

Beth sighed and looked over at Fitz, "Did you say his name was Neville?"

Fitz nodded, and Ginny's eyes filled with tears.

Harry felt that it was safe to speak for the first time, "Neville stopped you, Ginny. The scream can kill you that first time, it can burn you up and free the banshee within, that's what the banshee wants, but Neville stopped it, and because of that, you deafened him."

Beth squeezed Ginny's hand, "It is a miracle that you did not kill him. When I unleashed the banshee, your mother stopped me, and she was only able to do so because she had already unleashed her banshee by that point. But for a mere mortal to step in and survive? It's relatively unheard of."

Ginny's eyes snapped back to Beth's, "My mother is a banshee? Are you saying she knew that this would happen to me and she never told me?"

Beth nodded, "Unfortunately, yes."

Ginny seemed shocked; she was silent for a long moment while she tried to process this information, "So…she must have lost control and screamed at some point too then?"

Beth nodded, a frown knitting its way across her brow, "Yes, she did. She lost control after the death of her first daughter."

Harry was as surprised as Ginny to hear that.

"First daughter?"

"What?"

"She didn't tell you about Amanda either then," Beth said, sighing and sitting down on the edge of Ginny's bed, "I was 14 when Amy was born, I'm nine years younger than your mother. Everyone thinks it's a strange age gap but its because in between Molly and I was our brother, Isaac."

Ginny frowned but listened intently.

"He was killed by a werewolf, not long before his fifth birthday," Beth said quietly, "I was only a baby at the time."

"I didn't know that," Ginny said quietly, "My mother…she never talked about her past, she barely even spoke about Uncle Gideon and Fabian."

Beth looked down to hide the amber in her eyes, "Yes, well, I don't like talking about that either. But all the same, your mother should have told you about Amy. She was six months old when she died; Molly never knew what the reason was. She just went to get her one morning and she…" Beth shook her head and cleared her throat, "Molly lost it, she left the house, ran into the woods outside and screamed so loudly it could be heard all over Devon."

"Why didn't she die?" Ginny asked quietly, "You said it consumes you."

"It does if someone or something doesn't stop you," Beth said, her eyes on the sun that was rising outside the window, "Molly told me that she remembered the two little boys in that house and the screaming stopped. She always said that Bill and Charlie saved her because they reminded her what she had to live for."

Ginny scoffed, "And now they are Death Eaters who won't speak to her."

"That is because she fought the banshee," Beth said, her eyes on Ginny's once more, "You cannot fight the banshee, Ginny. She will drive you insane, the more you fight her, the more she talks to you, the more she whispers. She will make you paranoid; she will whisper every time someone is going to die, and over time, she will make you believe that you are the reason they all died."

Ginny swallowed, her eyes wide with fear.

"Your mother has spent her entire life fighting the banshee, or pretending she doesn't exist," Beth said, her eyes scanning Ginny's, "But I haven't. I have learned to live with Riona, and I will not pretend that it's easy. I have to let her take control which means relinquishing my own free-will. She needs to kill to satisfy her hunger, and I can see that happening, I'm a passenger in my own mind, and that never gets any less awful, but it is far better than being committed to a padded room in St. Mungo's."

"No," Ginny said, shaking her head as tears spilt, "No, I would rather have died, you're right! I can't go through that again; I can't!"

Harry stepped forward and grabbed Ginny's face, forcing her to look him in the eye, "No, Ginny. This isn't like that; this isn't like your first year."

Ginny calmed down enough to listen to Harry.

"Voldemort wanted to kill you so he could use your life force to bring himself back," Harry said softly, "But this banshee inside of you? She will let you live as long as you feed her. Yes, she would probably prefer to have been released had you died, but you didn't die so now she has to come to terms with sharing your body. If you treat her with respect and give her what she wants, you can live a relatively normal life. You can be with Neville-"

"I can be with Neville?" Ginny asked in disbelief, her eyes flashing amber, "How can I be with Neville? Do you think he'll be okay with me nipping off to let the banshee kill someone? Have you met Neville? He's the noblest boy I've ever met!"

"And he's stupidly in love with you," Harry cut in.

"Men will let anything slide when they are stupidly in love," Fitz agreed, his eyes on Beth.

Ginny shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks, "He's deaf because of me!"

"Yes, and one of the first things that he asked when he woke up was how _you_ were," Harry said, looking Ginny in the eye, "He's in love with you, Ginny and I know you feel the same."

"Of course I do," Ginny muttered, wiping her eyes, "How can I not love him? He's…" her breath caught in her throat, "He's perfect, and he deserves more than me."

"That's up to him to decide," Beth said, surprising herself as much as Fitz. She glanced up at the Irishman, "I felt the same way as you after I let Riona out. I ran away, I never gave the boy who had loved me for years a choice, and I should have."

Fitz smiled slightly, "Is that an apology I hear, Beth?"

Beth got to her feet and looked Fitz in the eye.

"I _am_ sorry, Fitz. I'm sorry for assuming the worst of you."

Ginny looked away from them to the screen that shielded Neville's bed from hers, "I love him."

"Well, you will have to tell him with sign language," Fitz said, looking down at Ginny, "On account of him being deaf and all, they do say that those who are lucky to survive a banshee's scream will never hear another sound."

"Okay Fitz – on the list of things not to say to a volatile 16-year-old whose just deafened her one true love, that's got to be up there," Harry said quickly.

Fitz rolled his eyes and Beth gave him a sceptical look.

Ginny glared at Harry, "I don't care how much you act like you want to help, you're obviously here for a reason."

"How about this for a reason? You were my friend once, and I feel bad about the way things ended," Harry said, and it was mostly the truth.

Ginny's eyes flashed, "You should feel bad!"

"Woah, calm," Harry said, taking a step back, "Conceal, don't feel, don't let those emotions burn you up."

"Conceal, don't feel?" Ginny scoffed.

Harry spun his wand in his hands, "It rolled off the tongue, but it sounds good, huh? Anyway, I get it – not the whole screaming and killing everyone in the room thing, but the control part. I have had to learn to control my emotions too, mainly because if I don't, the Dark Lord uses my scar to torture me. He can literally melt my brain so yeah, _that's_ fun."

"I know exactly what he can do to a person when he is inside their head," Ginny said darkly, "Been there, done that, got the 'Tom Riddle is a dick t-shirt,' so don't you dare talk to me like I'm a bloody child, Harry."

Harry grinned, "Ah, there's the Ginny that I miss."

"You miss me?" Ginny scoffed, "You've some nerve after what you've done."

"I know, and I am sorry," Harry said, he did genuinely mean that, "But in my defence, think of how you reacted when you found out that your mother had been manipulating you."

Ginny made a face.

"You screamed with enough force to destroy most of the glass in this castle, and you deafened the guy you love," Harry continued, "Not to mention the fact you now hate your mother and therefore probably most of the light, am I right?"

Ginny glared at him.

"You don't need to hate all of them, you know?" Harry said, watching her with interest, "Your father isn't a problem, he still loves Bill and Charlie, despite the fact they became Death Eaters. Then there's Fred and George who are off having a menage a trois with Hermione."

"That is not what they are doing, you insufferable prick," Ginny retorted.

Harry raised his hands once more, "I'm just saying – your mother is a bit psycho because sometimes she's good old Molly Weasley and other times she's an unnamed caged banshee. Oh, and Ron is a fucking bastard, but the rest of them are okay. Don't shun the entirety of the light because your mother is a bit schizo."

"Coming from _you_?" Ginny asked in disbelief, "You're the reason George lost an ear, the reason that Fred is a bloody werewolf!"

"Well yes, but I'm also the reason that Bill's babies are going to be fine, so on balance," Harry shrugged.

Ginny narrowed his eyes, "What did you have to do with that?"

"I granted them protection," Harry said, "Because I have the authority to do that unless the Dark Lord _really_ wants someone dead. I can put out a protection order on you too, banshee or not, regardless of whether you join us or remain ambivalent."

Ginny laughed, "And why would you do that, Harry? Why would you do that for the silly little girl that you think I am?"

Harry supposed he deserved that, "Yes, I did think you were a silly little girl who was slipping me love potions but-"

"How could you think that?" Ginny asked in disbelief, " _How?_ We played Quidditch together; you saw what I was capable of in the DA. How could you think I would be insecure enough to slip you a fucking love potion? If I wanted you, I would have told you, or I would have made out with you in the middle of the common room but honestly Harry, I could never quite be arsed with your hero complex."

Harry snorted, "No need to worry about that now then, eh?"

Ginny shook her head in disbelief, "You're impossible."

"That may be so," Harry admitted, "But you understand why I made the decisions that I did now, and the fact you haven't gone full banshee on me yet proves that. When I found out what Dumbledore had done to me, I felt exactly like you did when you found out about your mother. The difference is, you screamed and made a guy deaf, and I killed Albus Dumbledore then joined the ranks of the darkest wizard that ever lived."

Beth snorted in amusement, "Like father like son – James Potter always was a drama queen."

Fitz rolled his eyes, "Can we _not_ talk about your ex-boyfriend, love?"

Harry looked up with interest, "You dated my dad?"

"Hardly," Beth drawled, "I went to a Halloween Ball with him, and he spent the entire evening complaining that Lily Evans wouldn't notice him."

Harry laughed at the comment then turned back to his old friend, "Look, Ginny – I know you don't trust me, and I can understand why but I do know someone who can help you with the whole 'conceal, don't feel' thing and it's not me, I promise."

Ginny crossed her arms and looked him in the eye, "Who?"

"Daphne Greengrass," Harry replied.

"The Ice Queen?" Ginny scoffed.

"Exactly!" Harry said, snapping his fingers, "Why did you think she got that name? Because it wasn't for her affinity with ice magic, Ginny. It's because she has spent her whole life controlling her emotions to keep her magic under control. I don't know how or why, but there is something about her bloodline, something incredibly powerful, and it takes great control to keep that kind of raw magic forced down."

Ginny sighed, "Fine, I'll talk to her."

Harry smiled triumphantly, but Ginny wasn't finished, " _If_ you let me talk to Neville."

At this, Harry made a face, "Ginny, I don't think that's a good idea. If you get upset-"

"You can whisk me away and throw me off a fucking mountain," Ginny snapped, "You're a Death Eater, you can use your dark, smoky magic to apparate and dis-apparate at will, can't you?"

"Yes, but you're a banshee so throwing you off a mountain won't actually kill you-"

"Oh, shut up, Harry," Ginny barked, pushing herself to her feet and gripping him by the wrist, "I have to see him."

Fitz raised an eyebrow at Beth, "Is feistiness a Prewett family trait then?"

Beth smiled slightly, "Seems so."

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Ginny, " _Fine_ , but you can't actually talk to him. He can't hear you obviously, and he hasn't learned how to lip read yet."

Guilt flooded Ginny's face and Harry in a moment of weakness felt inexplicably sorry for her. He grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye, "But he wants to see you, Gin."

The old nickname softened her – she swallowed, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief second while she composed herself.

Harry pulled the curtain back a little and led her over to Neville. He was immersed in a book about sign language, but he looked up when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

With a weak smile, Harry pointed to Ginny and signed, " _She has something to say to you."_

Neville frowned, he had only understood some of what Harry had said. He was too busy looking at Ginny to pay attention to Harry properly.

Ginny blinked away the tears in her eyes, and Harry murmured, "Want me to show you how to sign 'I love you'?"

The redhead shook her head and crossed the short distance, "I know how to say that without words," she said, keeping her gaze on Neville's as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

Harry knew what she was going to do, so he wasn't surprised when Ginny captured Neville's lips in a soft kiss, being careful to keep her hands away from his ears. When she pulled back, she mouthed, "sorry" and pointed to herself, then made a heart with her hands and pointed at Neville.

Neville smiled broadly and signed back, "I love you too."

Ginny smiled tearfully and grabbed his hand, squeezing it harder than she needed to.

Harry tapped Neville on the foot and signed, " _Are you okay?"_

Neville gave a small nod, " _You can go."_

With a nod, Harry tapped Neville's leg again and signed, " _See you tomorrow."_

Neville gave Harry a small smile then nodded again, essentially dismissing him.

*** ~ TBC ~ ***


	28. We've Built This Town on Shaky Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent events force Harry to deal with emotions he has been pushing down for a long time, and Ginny starts to discover who she really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Atlantis by Seafret.

When Harry walked through the Slytherin common room towards his dorm room at the time of day when everyone else was _leaving_ their dorms, his presence caught the attention of several of his housemates.

Theo got to his feet to follow Harry, but Draco grabbed his wrist to stop him, "I wouldn't, Theo. The way he's walking and glaring at the ground, I know that look, he's brooding."

Theo snorted, "And? I can handle a brooding Harry Potter; I'm quite used to him these days."

"I know, but with everyone going on with Weaslette and Longbottom..." Draco trailed off, "They used to be his friends and even though he's trying to help them, they hate him. That kind of rejection is exactly the sort of thing that will make him spiral, and when he's like that, he needs space to sort his head out."

Theo sighed and looked at Harry's retreating back. He hesitated, torn between acting on his gut and going after Harry or listening to his best friend's advice.

"I'll take my chances."

"On your head be it," Draco muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving the common room.

Theo set off after Harry at a jog and caught his dorm room door as it swung shut. He slipped inside after Harry and was instantly thrown against the wall.

"You really should have listened to Draco," Harry's voice said, it was low and irritated, his breath was on Theo's neck.

Theo replied with sarcasm, "And what if I just like getting tossed against walls?"

Harry growled irritably and pushed himself off the door, hissing to Artemis as he did so, " _Why can't he just leave me alone? I don't want company!"_

The snake barely lifted its head to reply, " _If you do not want people to care about you, do not open the door into your heart."_

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "Why the fuck does that snake think she's a love expert?"

Theo stepped into the room properly, "Harry, I'm not even going to ask if you're okay because I can tell that you aren't but at the very least, will you talk about everything that's going on?"

"Everything that's going on," Harry said, laughing and shaking his head, "All of this is my fault, Theo. I abandoned them all, the people I had called friends for six years, I abandoned them all as a lost cause, and I was wrong! Ginny did nothing wrong, she was as much a victim as I was and now…now she has to live her life with a caged beast inside of her. And Hermione…she's a Wood, she's not a Muggle-born at all, and she has no idea."

Theo gripped him by the shoulders, "Harry, stop."

Harry looked Theo in the eye and saw genuine concern and fondness in his eyes. It floored him for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You need to break down," Theo said quietly, handing Harry the beetle that Lucius had given him for his birthday, "And I don't mean that you need to get angry, I mean that you _need_ to feel all of this. You need to bring that wall down and cry and scream and learn how to live with everything you have done."

Harry looked at the beetle in his hand. He sighed, the sigh of an old man, not a boy with his whole life ahead of him, and he put the beetle in his ear. Harry closed his eyes, unlocked the vault in his head and the metaphorical wall came tumbling down.

With a noise was half a sob and half a cry, Harry did what Theo said. He let it all out. He didn't push down his remorse and his conflicting feelings, he let it all flood his head and his conscience, and while he broke down, while he was at his most vulnerable, Theo was there.

Theo was there to put up shield charms when Harry threw things, and Theo was there to grab his wrists when he tried to punch a hole in the stone wall. Then, when the anger abated, and Harry just wanted to lie in bed for the rest of the day in silence, Theo was there to hold him and tell him.

"You're not a monster, Harry. Sometimes good people just burn themselves up to give others light, and sometimes the world turns the good people into the bad people."

* * *

Ginny was as intrigued by her Aunt Beth as she was wary of her. Beth knew that, of course, but she let Ginny ask the questions and take the lead.

They were drinking tea one morning in the hospital wing. Ginny had her knees drawn up to her chest, her teacup resting atop her knees. Beth was sitting in a comfortable chair by her niece's bed.

"Matron Malfoy says I should be discharged today," Ginny said eventually.

Beth looked at Ginny with interest, "Why don't you sound happy about that?"

Ginny sighed and looked into the depths of her tea, "Because I know the minute I leave this room, people are going to look at me funny, they're going to avoid me or ask me questions that I don't want to answer, and I know what's that like, I've been the sad little victim before."

Beth nodded and leant back in her chair, "Fitz told me about that. The Dark Lord possessed you?"

"He almost killed me," Ginny said, trying to block the images from her mind, "And I pretended I was fine for a long time, but it left a mark on my soul that I don't think will ever go away."

"Well," Beth said, leaning forward, "If you can learn to live with that, you can learn to live with the banshee inside of you. Most of the time, they are reasonable so long as you don't keep them caged. But every banshee is different, just like every human is different."

Ginny nodded, "I can feel her, in my conscience, but she's weak, I think."

"She will be until her first feed," Beth mused, "It might take a month or so for her to gather enough strength to take control, but when she does, don't fight it."

"But I'll kill someone," Ginny said, her eyes on Beth's.

"You will," Beth agreed, "But would you rather become what your mother has?"

Ginny swallowed and looked down, but said nothing.

"Even though she is weak, she can speak to you," Beth prompted, "Close your eyes and speak in your head as if you were talking to yourself. Ask her what her name is."

Ginny did as Beth had instructed. She closed her eyes, frowning, her eyes fluttering behind her eyelids.

"She's called Aideen."

Beth's eyes widened, "Aideen? Ask her if she is young?"

Ginny frowned a little more then nodded, "She says she was almost of age when the tribe was cursed and trapped in the Prewett bloodline."

"Open your eyes," Beth instructed.

Ginny did so, looking at Beth in surprise, "She's Riona's daughter, isn't she?"

Beth smiled a little sadly, "The daughter she's had me scouring the western isles of Scotland the islands of Ireland for, for the past sixteen years? Yes."

Ginny smiled too, "That's as heart-breaking as it is sweet."

"Yeah," Beth agreed, reaching forward and grabbing Ginny's hand, "And I guess you had better get used to me because there's no way that Riona is going to let you out of her sight now."

"Well…" Ginny said, smiling at her aunt, "I always did want a cool aunt. Granted, I didn't think she'd be shacked up with a Death Eater, but that seems par for the course these days."

Beth chuckled, "Fitz and I may have reconnected when he found me last night, but there's a long road between that and us getting back to anywhere near what we were before. I left him, and he's bitter about that, then I assumed he was amongst the Death Eaters rounded up and sent to Azkaban when in actual fact, he's been keeping an eye on me this entire time."

Ginny smiled, "So you're like Romeo and Juliet, then?"

"Without the part where we both die without realising we're in love with each other, yes," Beth said, letting go of Ginny's hand and gently taking her chin in her hand. She propped it up and smiled.

"Now if Matron Malfoy says you are ready to be released, then you _are_ ready to be released. Keep that chin up, keep your temper in check and if you need me, use this."

Beth handed Ginny a small mirror.

"A two-way mirror?" Ginny asked, "Harry had one of these; he used it to communicate with his godfather, Sirius."

"They were all the rage when we were at school," Beth said with a somewhat sad smile, "Maggie and I had them so we could keep in touch, even though we were in separate houses."

"Was she a friend of yours at school?" Ginny asked.

"She was my best friend," Beth admitted, "But we aren't on the same side anymore. As much as I want to stay neutral, my involvement with Fitz does make me lean towards the traditionalists even though most of them would sneer and call me a half-breed."

Ginny frowned.

"But Magdalena is the epitome of light now," Beth said, a little sarcastically, "She's married to Kingsley Shacklebolt, although she was with his best friend when I knew her."

Ginny looked up in surprise, "Magdalena Shacklebolt was your best friend?"

"She was Magdalena Jones when I met her," Beth said with a nod, "Her family controlled the north of Wales and ours controlled the south, but we co-existed harmoniously. My father was close friends with her father, and we grew up together…"

Beth gave her head a shake, "Anyway, she had her own life by the time I ran off. She had married her high-school sweetheart, Jack. They had a daughter together so when Fitz told me she was settled down with Kingsley Shacklebolt and two more kids now? Well, that was a shocker."

Ginny nodded, "Yeah…and like you said, you're not really on the same side anymore."

"Not really, no," Beth agreed.

"Aunt Beth," Ginny said, biting her lip, "I don't know what side I'm on yet."

Beth smiled sadly at Ginny and cupped her face, "Ginny, my love; you are 16-years-old. You are not on anyone's side. As far as both sides are concerned, you are just collateral damage."

Ginny frowned but said nothing more on the subject because Narcissa was on her way over.

* * *

Harry had no shame, he sat down heavily at the Ravenclaw table at breakfast time and put his arm around Lily, "What an eventful few days I've had."

Lily shrugged his arm off, "Fascinating. Where on earth have you been?"

"Oh, you know, around and about," Harry said, picking up a slice of toast, "What have I missed?"

"Nothing, we don't have an Offensive Magic professor so that class has been chaotic but other than that it's been the same old monotonous shit that it has been for the last six years," Lily replied dryly.

"The same old monotonous shit?" Harry echoed, "Trust me; you wouldn't be saying that if you had been my friend sooner."

Lily gave him an irritated look, "Something must have happened for you to disappear off the radar so what was it? And did it have something to do with the banshee-like scream that shattered half of the castle windows a few days ago?"

"It has everything to do with her," Harry replied.

Lily raised an eyebrow, "Implying she's someone a bit closer to home than I thought."

"Hm, so intuitive," Harry said playfully. He moved closer and whispered in her ear, "Ginevra bloody Weasley."

Lily drew back and raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Uh-huh," Harry replied, "And we also have the makings of a master sorcerer on our hands. He will have to master speechless magic first of course, but you and I both know that people who can control raw magic like that are immensely powerful."

Lily looked at Harry with interest, "She deafened someone?"

Harry bit into his toast, "Your old pal, Neville. You would think it a Shakesperean tragedy, wouldn't you? Innocent little girl who can't control her powers deafens the man she loves, and he turns dark or kills himself in spite. _But_ this is Neville Longbottom we're talking about so of course, he forgave her instantly, and true love conquers all."

Lily made a face, "It's sickening."

Harry shot her an amused smile, "You don't believe in true love, Lilith? Queen of Darkness?"

Lily smirked, "Queen of Darkness? That has quite a ring to it."

"Not quite as good a ring as the Ice Queen," Harry said, his eyes inadvertently seeking out Daphne at the Slytherin table.

Lily snorted, "Someone is infatuated. What does Theodore think? Is he jealous?"

Harry chuckled, "Don't be so petty, it isn't becoming."

Lily rolled her eyes, "I don't know why I ever slept with you."

"My boyish good looks and charm," Harry teased.

Lily looked torn between laughing and cursing him, but before she had a chance to do either, Severus Snape stood up at the Head Table and called for silence.

"After some of his…indiscretions…came to light," Severus drawled, "Professor Carrow was forced to retire from his post. Replacing him as our new Offensive Magic professor with immediate effect is Professor Riddle."

Harry choked on his toast, and Lily's eyes shot up towards the Head Table in disbelief. The door to the antechamber opened and out walked Voldemort – _scratch that, Tom –_ to whispers and gasps from several students. They weren't whispering or gasping because they knew who he was; it was because they found him attractive and who could blame them? It wasn't often they had a handsome middle-aged professor who wasn't a werewolf, after all. There had been Lockhart of course, but most people had found his personality off-putting enough.

Tom smiled at Severus and took his seat at the Head Table. Without making it too obvious, he smirked in the direction of Harry and Lily.

"He's our professor," Lily said in disbelief.

"Hm," Harry agreed, struggling to contain an amused grin, "Does that make sleeping with him a bit harder to stomach, Lilith? Head Girl and Professor," Harry tutted, "My, how far you have fallen."

Lily cursed him under the table, and Harry exclaimed as her hex made his legs begin to dance, hitting against the underside of the table. He performed the counter curse and nudged her in the ribs irritably, to the amusement of the rest of the Ravenclaw table.

By the time Harry looked up at the Head Table once more, Lily and Tom were in some sort of eyesex battle, and it became apparent which two teachers knew Tom Riddle's true identity. Horace Slughorn had his head down, an unreadable expression on his face, and Minerva McGonagall's lips were pursed shut, a silent fury raging in her eyes. They had obviously been briefed and bound to secrecy.

Harry opened his mouth to say something to Lily, but he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and he turned around. Ginny was standing in the doorway of the great hall, staring in horror at Tom who, of course, had no real idea why.

Without a word to Lily, Harry got to his feet and crossed the hall, gripping Ginny by the arm and saying, "I think you need a walk, Gin. You look hot, let's go to the lake, yeah? Cool down and all that?"

Ginny glared at him, but Harry dragged her outside anyway.

"Calm down," Harry said when the cold air washed over them, "No more fiery eyes."

Ginny shut her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down, the cold wind helped. When she opened her eyes, they were a soft amber.

"She is upset. You must understand why. You know who that man is to her."

Harry was a little alarmed by the sudden Irish accent, "I'm going to hazard a guess that I'm not talking to Ginny right now?"

She gave him an amused look, "Of course not, I am Aideen."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said cautiously, shaking Ginny/Aideen's hand, "Did she let you take control or did you just decide to go for a ride in her body?"

"I respect Ginevra, and she respects me," Aideen replied calmly, "I will never take control of her body without her consent, but she does need to stop wrestling with her conscience. She will need to allow me to feed at some point."

"She will," Harry promised, "Just give her some time to come to terms with it. She's only a kid after all."

Aideen nodded and lowered her head, closing her eyes as she did so.

When her eyes opened once more, they were back to their usual hazel, "Hi, is Ginny Weasley back in the room?"

Ginny glared at Harry, "Why the fuck is Tom Riddle at the fucking Head Table?"

"Aideen seems like a nice girl, well banshee," Harry continued, "Her language is less colourful than yours, that's for sure."

Ginny gave him an irritated look.

Harry cocked his head at Ginny, "Let me ask you a question, if Neville sleeps with you, is it technically a threesome?"

Ginny's glare intensified, "Bearing in mind that Aideen is hungry and that we can kill you with a simple scream, will you answer my goddamn question?"

"Yes," Harry conceded, "Tom Riddle is here because he's the new Offensive Magic Professor."

"What?" Ginny hissed, "How? He's Lord Voldemort! He can't teach at this school!"

"He runs the Wizarding World, I hate to be the one to tell you Ginny, but he can do whatever the hell he wants," Harry pointed out.

Ginny looked at Harry disdainfully, "And how am I supposed to sit in his classroom and let him teach me? After everything he did? He knows _everything_ about me, Harry! He was in my head; he saw my fears, my…desires, _everything_!"

"Ginny," Harry said, gripping her by the shoulders, "That man at the Head Table? He's not the boy who hurt you. That version of him was a memory, preserved in that diary using dark magic. He doesn't remember that in any detail at all. It would be like you going back in time and changing your own timeline then coming back. You would vaguely remember those new memories, but they would be fuzzy and dream-like because they weren't original, or authentic."

Ginny frowned, "So he doesn't remember it?"

Harry shook his head, "He'll know who you are, I suspect, and he will vaguely remember some of the events of that year, but he won't remember the intricate details. It might have been different if I hadn't destroyed the diary, but I did, and when I did that, I effectively killed that part of him."

Ginny sat down by the shore of the lake and sighed. She let her head drop into her hands, "I don't think anyone apart from you understands what that did to me, Harry. You're the only other person who had him inside you like that."

Harry snorted in amusement at the irony of that statement.

Ginny noticed, so Harry decided to tell her a nugget of truth.

"I've been living that since May, Gin," Harry said, kneeling in front of her on the wet, cold ground, "Since I joined him, he's been in my head. He can tap in, pretty much whenever he likes. He can see my dreams, my memories; he can hear my thoughts, he can possess me, and when I fuck up or overstep which as you can imagine, I do pretty often, he can torture me through my scar."

Harry shook his head and sighed.

"I've felt the pain of the cruciatus curse and when he…" Harry shook his head, "Look, let's just say that I have never known pain like it."

Ginny gave Harry a sympathetic look – the first she had given him for a long time.

"When I screamed…when I lost control and let Aideen out…it was as painful as it was relieving."

Harry looked her in the eye, "You've been fighting your temper your entire life, haven't you?"

Ginny nodded, "I inherited it from my mother, and I don't think I'll ever stop hating her for not preparing me for this…"

"Would knowing about it have prevented you from becoming it?" Harry asked curiously.

Ginny shook her head, "No, I don't think so and…I mean, I have no choice but to accept it now. When I screamed, I was angry, but then the anger became pain. I felt like the cells in my body were changing…like my bones were cracking, like my DNA was rewriting itself and although I know that's exactly what happened, I didn't expect to be able to _feel_ it."

Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it supportively.

"And now? Well, now I'm never going to die. I could be with Neville, I could spend my entire life loving him and using my powers to protect him," Ginny said quietly, "But he will die. I'll get older and older until eventually my body can't age anymore and I become the walking dead."

Harry gave her a nod, "Look, chances are I'm going to live for a long time. I can't tell you why, but there's a reason that the Dark Lord and I are so close and that's linked to my lifespan too. I won't live forever, but I'll live long enough to take your head off with a goblin made sword when you start getting too walking-dead-like for your own good."

Ginny laughed weakly and held out her hand, "You've got yourself a deal, Potter."

Harry smiled and took her hand, shaking it firmly, "Have you spoken to Daphne yet?"

Ginny shook her head, "No, I didn't know how to approach her. She's quite intimidating. I mean, they do call her the Ice Queen for a reason."

"Hm, true," Harry said with a small smile, "I'll hook you up with her."

"Alright," Ginny agreed, getting to her feet.

"And Ginny," Harry said, standing up and falling into step with her, "There's one last thing."

"Isn't there always with you?" She retorted dryly.

Harry didn't chuckle or smile, he was deadly serious now, "You can't tell Neville who Professor Riddle really is."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue.

"I know you want to, and I know why, but he might be the best thing for Neville, but he won't accept his help if he knows who he is," Harry said quickly, "He can teach Neville how to use speechless magic, how to channel his power. I can try to help with that, but not like he can."

Ginny bit her lip irritably. Harry was pressing all the right buttons, but he was also telling the truth. He knew that Ginny would be unable to say no when she knew that this was all for Neville's benefit.

"Okay," Ginny said after a tense silence, "I won't tell him."

Harry gave her a grateful smile, "Thanks, Ginny and…I'm sorry, about everything."

"Yeah," Ginny said with a half-smile, "So am I, Harry."

* * *

Harry was itching to get through the day so that the final period could roll around – Offensive Magic with Professor Riddle. The moment he strode in and dropped into his seat next to Draco, Harry looked him in the eye and thought, _Well, this is a plot twist._

Tom smirked down at his notes and thought back; _You got Ginevra Weasley under control, I presume?_

_Of course._

_And the rumours that she is a banshee and has deafened the Longbottom heir?_

_Entirely true,_ Harry thought, keeping his eyes on the professor.

"Harry, did you know about this?" Draco whispered from his side.

Harry shook his head, "Not any sooner than you did. I think our Head Girl might have had something to do with it."

Tom's eyes shifted, almost imperceptibly, to Lily.

_Lilith merely informed me that Amycus was not suited to teaching._

Harry bit back a snort. _That's one way of putting it. So, your opinion on our banshee?_

They wouldn't be able to talk for much longer; the majority of the students had sidled into class already. Tom looked up and caught his eye briefly. _Not a problem at the moment. We will discuss it in depth at a more suitable occasion._

Harry bowed his head, _Sounds fair_.

The last student entered the room, and Tom shut the door with a click of his fingers. All eyes were on him, watching him with anticipation. He stepped forward and spoke in his usual, soft, captivating way.

"Good afternoon. My name is Professor Riddle, and I will be teaching you how to use magic for offensive purposes," Tom explained.

"You may think that is exclusively linked to duelling, but it is not. Magic can be used offensively against a person in a duel, yes. But it can also be used to defend against a magical creature or to destroy a cursed object."

Already, they were hanging on his every word.

"There are many different types of offensive magic," Tom continued.

"The more ignorant among us like to say there is light magic, or white magic if we use the old terms, and dark magic, alternatively called black magic."

"But that is not true," Tom said, flicking the board with a wave of his hand.

"There is a spectrum concerning magic. At one end, we have white magic, and at the other end, we have black magic. All of this in-between? This is the many shades of grey that the majority of us operate in on a daily basis - magic that is not quite dark enough to be considered black but also has enough malicious intent that it cannot be considered as white either."

Tom looked out at the frowning faces.

"For example, how many of you have used a hex or jinx as a practical joke, or to punish a classmate?"

Almost all of the students raised their hands, and Tom chuckled.

"You see? I presume you would not all call yourself dark witches or wizards, yet all of you feel comfortable straddling the middle of this spectrum."

Harry leant back in his chair and smiled; he had a feeling he was going to enjoy learning from Professor Riddle as much as he had enjoyed learning from Lord Voldemort.

"So today will be an entirely theoretical lesson, I am afraid," Tom said apologetically, "But in due course, we shall have practical classes."

There wasn't the usual hum of irritation at this; they seemed to understand his logic perfectly.

"Today we will be discussing this spectrum and placing spells that we all know well, into it," Tom said, sitting on the edge of his desk.

"And I think by the end of this double period, you will all have a far better understanding of how rare it is to find a truly black magician."

Harry chanced a glance over at Lilly, she was smirking too. Like him, she saw exactly where this was going, and interestingly enough, Daphne Greengrass seemed rather captivated by Professor Riddle too. It would make for an interesting term, that much was certain.

* * *

"Brown and Finnigan have joined up with Ronald Weasley and his merry band of useless rebels."

Harry didn't even look up from his book, "Did you get this piece of information from a reliable source, Blaise?"

"The Headmaster reliable enough for you, Harry?" Blaise returned.

Harry smiled slightly and turned a page, "So Lavender Brown leaves Hogwarts and runs straight into the arms of her saviour, Ronald Weasley? Now, I feel sick. Was there a point to telling me this?"

Blaise gave Harry an amused look, "I thought you might be interested to hear _why_ she joined up with Weasel and his band of merry men. Someone told her that he needed supporters, and that rumour had it he was hiding out at an old family castle in Wales."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I wonder who could have told her that," he said sarcastically.

Theo snorted from Harry's side and muttered, "Who do you think?"

Harry looked up for long enough to see Pansy stride past with a confident smirk on her abhorrent face. He rolled his eyes, "Congratulations, Parkinson!" he said loudly.

Pansy spun on her heel to look at Harry, "Excuse me?"

"I said congratulations," Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"When you enticed Lavender Brown into running off to meet up with her idiotic ex-boyfriend, you effectively signed her death warrant."

Pansy scoffed, "Good. One less blood traitor to contend with."

Harry rolled his eyes, "What you did was as unhelpful as it was counter-productive. She would have been far easier to kill within these walls, but…at least she'll get to spend her last few weeks on this earth with her 'won-won', her one true love."

A ripple of laughter went around the seventh years at this, but Harry didn't smirk or look around for recognition. He just licked his finger and applied it to the page of his book, flicking it over as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

When the comment died down, the sofa shifted as someone sat down next to Harry. He looked up, knowing it couldn't be Theo because he was on his other side.

Daphne Greengrass, who had been a lot nicer to him lately, raised an eyebrow, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Why?" Harry asked calmly.

"You just seem a little more masochistic than usual today," Daphne replied with a shrug.

Harry snorted and glanced at Theo, "Do I?"

Theo nodded and turned the page of his own book, "Uh-huh, you're a bit like that when you're deep in thought, though."

Daphne surveyed the two boys who, as usual, were comfortable just being close together, "So no conflicting feelings about the rumours flying around? The ones about Ginevra Weasley and Neville Longbottom?"

"No," Harry replied, closing his book and looking up at her, "I don't have feelings. I take them to an abyss deep within my soul and throw them off a cliff."

Daphne gave him a sceptical look, "That was…oddly specific."

Harry gave Daphne a false smile and got to his feet, but as he walked away, he heard Theo say, "Oddly specific and entirely untrue. He throws them off the cliff, but they keep finding a way of floating back up to the surface, no matter how hard he tries."

Without waiting to hear any more, Harry stepped into his dorm room and snapped the door shut.

Back in the common room, Daphne looked at the closed door and frowned, "He's been different lately, though. Less conflicted, don't you think?"

Theo nodded, "That's because I told him to stop shoving his remorse into an imaginary vault in his head. He let it all out, and he learned how to cope with it, and he's all the stronger for it."

Daphnes frown deepened as she kept her eyes on the door, "All the more lethal, more like," she said quietly, looking her cousin in the eye.

"I don't think you know what kind of fire you're playing with here, Theo."

Theo's eyes flashed in amusement, "Fiendfyre," he teased.

Daphne didn't take it as a joke. Instead, she nodded thoughtfully, "As dangerous as it is beautiful? That is rather appropriate."

Theo got to his feet and shot her a winning grin, "I'll tell him you said that!"

*** ~ TBC ~ ***


	29. I'll Follow You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville begins to learn how to deal with his deafness, and Lily ignores her worried friends' warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> I’ll Follow You by Shinedown.
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> Pretty explicit M/F smut, age difference.

When Harry walked into the hospital wing to talk to Neville that night, his friend was not in a good way. Harry could tell that the moment he looked at him.

" _What's wrong?"_ Harry signed.

Neville sighed and opened his mouth to speak, something he hadn't done since he shouted that first time.

"Narcissa wants me to speak."

Harry smiled and gave Neville a thumbs up.

Neville rolled his eyes, "Am I shouting?"

Harry shook his head and signed, " _A little loud."_

Neville concentrated, "Better?"

Harry nodded and signed, " _A little."_

He picked up a notebook by the side of the bed and wrote, " _If you can speak, then you cast spells normally, can't you?"_

Neville shook his head and took the notebook from Harry, " _Speaking is hard. I can't regulate the volume or my tone very well, and both of those things are important to casting spells right."_

Harry nodded thoughtfully, " _And pronunciation."_ he wrote.

Neville nodded glumly, "I can't do magic anymore," he said, his voice still a little loud, "I'm going home."

"No," Harry said, he knew Neville would be able to lip-read that. He wrote in the notebook, " _You have too much potential to leave. You will be a great sorcerer one day, with or without your hearing."_

Neville sighed and wrote, " _Thanks for keeping my spirits up. You're not as evil as everyone thinks you are."_

Harry smiled sadly and signed, " _No. I'm much worse."_

Neville frowned, but Harry didn't give him time to respond. He glanced to his side, to someone that Neville couldn't see beyond the screen, then he signed, " _Someone is here to see you_."

Neville frowned as Tom stepped into the little area surrounding his bed.

"Who are you?" Neville asked.

Tom smiled politely, "Professor Riddle," he spoke clearly but did not slow down his speech or patronise Neville. He spoke and signed at the same time, "I believe that I can help you."

"How?" Neville asked.

"A spell," Tom said, still speaking and signing – Harry supposed it was relatively easy for him to multi-task; he was used to holding conversations while Harry's disjointed thoughts milled around his head after all.

The slightly amused but exasperated look that Tom gave Harry told him that he was right.

"To fix my-" Neville pointed at his ears.

Tom shook his head and sat down beside Neville's bed. He picked up the notebook that Neville and Harry had been using to communicate and wrote, " _No – unfortunately, no_ _magic can erase the effects of a banshee's scream, just as no magic can correct lycanthropy. However, there is a spell that can aid you in absorbing knowledge. It would allow you to learn sign language instantaneously – I could teach you and a few trusted friends so that you can communicate clearly."_

Neville's eyes widened. He nodded, carefully so as not to hurt his already delicate head – there were bandages over both of his ears, "Yes, please."

Tom smiled and pulled a book from his bag. He placed it on Neville's lap and gently placed Neville's hand on the book. He pulled his wand out, and Harry noticed that it was Dumbledore's old wand, but he doubted that anyone else would notice that.

Tom performed an old spell with his wand – Harry could tell that the magic was ancient from the orange-brown smoke that encircled Neville – Gus had taught him the signs well, after all. The incantation was old too, a version of Latin that Harry could only make out the odd word of. There was a burst of orange light, as bright as the dawn, then a brief wind whipped up and died down as suddenly as it had appeared.

When it was over, Tom signed to Neville, " _Do you understand?"_

Neville grinned and signed back, " _Yes, thank you."_

Tom smiled, " _You are welcome. I hope this means you shall be attending my class shortly? I have recently replaced Professor Carrow after some rather unsavoury accusations about his affinity for certain students were brought to light."_

Neville gave a small nod, " _As soon as Matron Malfoy lets me out, I will be there. But how can I do magic without the proper pronunciation and tone?"_

" _Do not worry yourself unnecessarily,"_ Tom signed, " _I can teach you how to wield magic in its most raw form. It will not be easy, but you shall gain more control and power than most magic users could ever dream of. Once you have mastered this form of magic, this may prove to be a blessing in disguise."_

Neville looked like he doubted that, but all the same, he signed, " _Maybe. Thank you, professor."_

Harry had only understood some of what had been signed between the two, so he asked, "Could you teach me, sir?"

Tom turned to him, _Sir?_ He thought with amusement.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he thought, _Well, I can't exactly call you, my lord, can I?_

Harry was pretty sure he saw Tom suppress a smirk. He then turned to Neville and signed, " _Your friend here is asking if I can perform the spell on him so that you two may communicate more easily?"_

Neville looked at Harry, and Harry could see the hesitation in his eyes. He wanted to trust Harry, but he wasn't quite sure if he could, or even who he was anymore.

" _Please_ ," Harry signed, and he hoped the look in his eyes convinced Neville that he meant it because he did.

With a sigh and a nod, Neville turned to Tom and said, "Yes. You can."

Tom placed the book in Harry's hands, looked him in the eye and thought, _My office after curfew tonight. It seems that a discussion is long overdue._

Harry knew that tone, _shit._

Tom smirked.

_Fuck,_ Harry thought internally; he was in trouble.

* * *

"Black."

"Greengrass."

Daphne sat down across from Lily in the library, "How is your day going?"

"Well…no one has died," Lily answered with a shrug.

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "Interesting standards, but fair enough."

"What do you want, Daphne?" Lily asked, looking up at the blonde girl, "I'm not in the mood for small talk."

Daphne looked Lily in the eye, "Potter is worried about you."

Lily laughed, "And? Did he ask you to speak to me, really?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "I did tell him that it was a pointless task, but he was quite insistent."

"Yes, he is rather," Lily agreed, "And you are right; it is pointless. I am quite capable of making my own decisions."

"And your own mistakes?" Daphne countered.

Lily's dark eyes found Daphne's, "What makes you so certain that it's a mistake?"

"He is dangerous, Lily," Daphne said, leaning forward and lowering her voice, "Far more dangerous than Potter or Draco, or any other Death Eater."

"I know exactly how dangerous he is," Lily said quietly, "But what you seem to underestimate is how dangerous _I_ am. I do find it ironic that you have the nerve to caution me about my involvement with a dangerous man, what with your obvious infatuation with Harry and all."

Daphne laughed, "Infatuation? Potter and I are barely friends."

Lily leant forward, her voice lower than a whisper, "Really? So you have never felt the attraction that comes when someone who is capable of doing terrible things, for some reason, only cares about you?"

Daphne moved back a little and looked down at her book, "He cares about lots of people – Theo for one, and not to mention Draco."

"Not in the same way he cares about you," Lily said, closing her book, "And deep down, you know that, but your denial runs _so_ deep. I'm curious, Daphne – what hurts more? Thinking you should hate Harry Potter now that you know what he has become, or knowing that you don't?"

Daphne closed her own book and looked up at Lily, "At least Potter is human, the Dark Lord…I don't know what he is, but he's a monster. Some say he's the devil himself."

The comment didn't deter Lily. She just smiled and slung her bag onto her shoulder.

"That's the thing about the devil, Daphne; he's misunderstood. If you read the bible, you'll see that he's not a little red man with horns and a tail," Lily rose to her feet, "He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favourite."

With that nugget of wisdom, Lily swept out of the library. Daphne wasn't stupid; she knew that it was a metaphor. In Lily's vision, Dumbledore was God, Voldemort was Satan, and Harry was what? Jesus? Caught in the crossfire, a reluctant victim of the war he had been born into. With a sigh, Daphne looked back down at her book, knowing she wouldn't be able to concentrate for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"Ah, Harry," Tom said the moment Harry stepped into his office that night, "Taking matters into your own hands once again, I see?"

Harry should have seen that coming really; he grimaced, "You put me in charge of recruitment. I thought by helping Ginny and Neville; I could recruit them-"

"And what use do I have with a half-breed banshee who cannot control her own powers and a deaf wizard who was apparently severely limited even before he lost his hearing?" Tom snapped.

Harry swallowed, "She can't control her powers yet, but she can learn to, and when she does, she's a ready-made assassin, and you know yourself how powerful Neville has the potential of becoming. You're also keen to continue pureblood lines, and if we get Neville on our side, we are continuing the Longbottom line, one firmly entrenched in the light."

Tom trained his wand on Harry, "All I am hearing are a lot of possibilities, and I do not have time for possibilities; I require certainties! You did not inform me while you made these decisions. In fact, you openly blocked me while you spoke to Narcissa about Bellatrix and the fate of her child."

"Your child," Harry corrected.

"Do not presume to correct me!" Tom hissed, shutting the door with magic and putting up a silencing ward, all without moving his wand or uttering a single incantation.

Harry took a step back, now pinned between the wooden door and the Dark Lords wand.

"You have been too foolish and too impulsive for far too long!" Tom hissed, and the pain in Harry's scar began to build.

"Tom, please stop."

Harry looked up sharply and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Pollux Pyrites standing in the doorway between the office and Tom's quarters.

Tom paused and turned to look at Pollux – for some reason, he was about the only person Tom would come close to taking orders from. Even then, it was more like he just listened to and respected Pollux's opinion above all others.

Harry knew that Pollux had been his advisor for a long time, but beyond that, Harry knew nothing of the relationship between the two wizards.

"You know my stance on this," Pollux continued as he strutted into the room, "You are being too harsh on him."

Tom scoffed, "I am harsh because he is showing that he requires a firm hand to remind him of his duties ."

"That may have been the parenting stance when you and I were children, but no more," Pollux said, his eyes on Tom's.

Tom sighed, and Harry frowned, his eyes flickering between the two wizards as he tried to figure out what the connection was.

"You're brothers."

Pollux laughed and looked over at Harry, "Not in such clear terms, Harry, no."

Tom holstered his wand and looked at Harry disdainfully for his suggestion.

"We met in the summer of 1943," Pollux said in the dramatic, over-the-top tone that he spoke in. He waved his staff, "My parents had fled from the continent because of the muggle war, and I was to start a new life in Britain. That was when I met a young man who shared my world views."

Harry's frown deepened as a thought crossed his mind – _Like Dumbledore and Grindelwald._

Tom shook his head irritably, "Nothing like Dumbledore and Grindelwald. We had a common interest to reform wizarding society through the obliteration of muggles, so we struck up an alliance."

"A friendship," Pollux corrected

"An _alliance,"_ Tom said again, "And Pollux has remained a loyal advisor to me ever since."

"Right," Harry said, not sure what _to_ say to that.

Tom dropped the subject and looked at Harry, "If I have been harsh on you, it is because I more than anyone know what you are capable of. I know who you are capable of becoming, but rather than focusing on that, you are acting like a silly little boy!"

Harry let out another cry of pain. It felt like lightning was coursing through his blood, putting his every nerve on edge.

"I am aware that you are a teenager, but you are also my most important follower in this war, and people like you and I do not get the luxury of a normal life," Tom hissed, gripping Harry by the chin and forcing him to look into his eye.

"Extraordinary people live extraordinary lives, and until you grow up and begin to use your potential, I will not treat you with the respect that you may one day deserve from me."

Pollux rolled his eyes, "Not what I meant when I said to be less harsh on him, Tom."

Tom ignored his old friend and spoke to Harry once more, "You have been fooling around at school, recruiting useless banshees and pathetic deaf boys. Not to mention, getting no further with your most important task of aligning the Greengrass's to our side. Meanwhile, Pollux and Ihave been travelling abroad, finding wandmakers and asking them some rather pertinent questions."

Tom leant against his desk and spoke quite calmly as if he hadn't been hissing vehemently at Harry only seconds ago. Pollux crossed his arms and leant against the wall, also surveying Harry with interest.

"And what did you learn, my lord?" Harry asked.

"That our wands are as linked as our souls, Harry," Tom said softly, "They each have a phoenix feather core, and the same phoenix gave those two feathers."

"Fawkes," Harry scoffed, "Well, that's just fucking ironic, isn't it?"

"It is rather," Tom agreed with a slight smile, "Our wands would not fight each other because of the link between us. The Horcrux inside you protects itself from getting killed by the rest of the soul, you see?"

"And the Horcrux in me prevents me from killing you because it wants to get back to you," Harry said with a nod.

"Hence the prophecy," Tom said.

"Yeah," Harry said, "That makes sense. Is that why you aren't using your wand?"

Tom shook his head, "No, now that you and I are on the same page – for the most part anyway – that should no longer be an issue. I am using this wand because it is extraordinary."

Harry frowned, "Why? Dumbledore wasn't that special."

Pollux laughed, "No, Harry. This is not the wand that Albus Dumbledore bought in Diagon Alley when he turned 11. Albus Dumbledore won this wand in 1945."

Harry's frown deepened as he looked up at the two older men, "1945? He won it from Grindelwald?"

"Indeed," Tom said, caressing the wand between his fingers.

"It is an old wand, Harry, a fabled wand," Pollux added.

Harry's eyes widened, "The Elder Wand."

Tom smirked triumphantly but said nothing.

"Tell him of the ring," Pollux said.

Tom held out his hand, showing Harry a ring which contained an amber stone, "This contains the resurrection stone."

"Does it work?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Of course it works," Tom said, leaning back, "Would you care to see the proof for yourself? You can talk to anyone who has passed onto the next plane of existence."

Harry's mouth suddenly felt very dry. He frowned and opened his mouth but couldn't get any words out, so he shut it and said nothing. The trouble was that everyone he might have once wanted to talk to would be ashamed of him now – his parents, Sirius…

Tom cocked his head at Harry, "Interesting. There is truly no one from your past who you feel would understand your plight?"

Harry gave Tom a cynical look, "No, Tom, there isn't. How is a chat with my parents going to go? Mum, Dad, meet Tom, the wizard who killed you but don't worry, it was all a big misunderstanding, and he's my new BFF?"

Pollux chuckled, "It would not go down well; you are right. After all, you are in the room with the man who killed your parents and the man who stood guard while he did so."

Harry looked up, "You were there that night?"

"Pollux was, and remains, the only advisor I have ever truly trusted," Tom drawled, "As such, he was the only person, bar Severus, he knew of the prophecy."

Harry gave a small nod of understanding, "Well, if you say the resurrection stone works, then I trust you. But you still don't have all of the Hallows united, do you?"

"You know that I do not," Tom said, cocking his head at Harry once more, "You have the final hallow – the cloak of invisibility."

"And let me guess, you want it?"

"Want is a polite word," Tom said with a false smile, "I _will_ be taking it, whether you like it or not."

"Fair enough," Harry said, pulling the cloak from his robes and handing it over, very reluctantly, to the Dark Lord.

"It matters to you?" Tom asked.

"It was his father's," Pollux pointed out, "Of course it matters to him. Not all of us despised and murdered our fathers before we came of age, after all."

Harry smiled half-heartedly, "Pollux is right. It does matter, it has been handed down through my family for generations, and here I am, the weak-willed Potter, just handing it over to my master."

Tom met Harry's eye, "You are many things, Harry Potter, but weak-willed is not one of them," he said, caressing the material of the cloak, "And you shall be richly rewarded for this."

"What do you want with the Hallows anyway?" Harry asked, "To live forever? To be even more powerful than you already are?"

Tom did not answer straight away, and Harry wondered if he would at all. As usual, he had closed his mind off from Harry in a way that Harry just couldn't when they were in such proximity.

"I have a theory," Tom said eventually, "And I believe the Hallows may be the answer. That is all you need to know and, therefore, all I will tell you."

"Fair enough," Harry replied, that did seem reasonable after all.

Tom fixed Harry with a long, searching look, "Focus on the task that I have given you."

"Less fooling around, more focus on the job at hand," Pollux said, smiling at Harry.

Harry nodded; it was both a physical and a verbal slap on the wrist.

* * *

Lily was on her way up to the castle from the greenhouses when she bumped into Tom. It was the first time she had managed to catch him alone since he had started his new job at the castle.

"Good evening, Lilith."

She smiled at the handsome man in front of her, "Good evening, Tom."

Tom smiled mischievously, "You had better not let your classmates hear you calling me by my first name. They might get the wrong idea."

Lily scoffed and fell into step with him, "Let them, I don't care what other people think about me."

"I know," Tom said, the smile still lingering on his lips, "It is rather refreshing."

Lily chuckled, "If I ask why you were lurking around the grounds, will you give me a straight answer?"

"As you asked so politely, of course, I will," Tom replied, "I was spying on our headmaster."

Lily looked up in surprise, "Snape? I thought you trusted him."

"I did trust him," Tom agreed, "But that was a long time ago, a lifetime ago, it seems."

Lily looked across the grounds, "Was he leaving the castle?"

Tom's gaze was still on the gates, "He was, and as _I_ am here, one can only wonder who he is meeting."

"You never know; he might have a hot date," Lily said sarcastically.

Tom gave her an amused look, "That was a joke."

"It was, you're learning," She teased.

Tom laughed, a natural sound that made Lily smile.

"I was going to stop off somewhere before I headed inside," Lily admitted, "Have you ever been to the Herbology Tower?"

Tom looked away from the gates to the castle, "No, I do not believe I have."

"I found it by accident one day," Lily said, pulling a curtain of ivy back and ducking through a gap in the stone.

Tom followed her inside.

"I suppose it must have been Helga's happy place," Lily continued while Tom pulled himself to his full height and looked around, "But I like to come here to think."

"It is intriguing," Tom agreed.

A large tree grew up the centre of the tower, the stone steps circling around it. Lily was already halfway up, so Tom had to jog to catch up with her.

Atop the tower was one singular room with a large bay window that looked out over the greenhouses. Lily sat down at one end and drew her knees up, looking pointedly at the other side of the bay seat.

Tom hesitated for a moment, then sat down, casting his gaze out at the darkening sky.

"I love this castle," Lily admitted, her eyes on the grounds.

"As do I," Tom agreed, looking from the setting sun to Lily, "It was the first place I truly felt I belonged."

Lily smiled at that, "That's why I love it so much, and I think why it's Harry safe haven too."

"We have a lot in common, Harry, myself and you," Tom agreed.

Lily looked over at Tom, "I don't think any of us were loved as children, and that leaves a mark on you. People who are loved know _how_ to love; it's an instinct, but for people like us? It's something that we have to learn."

Tom tore his eyes away from hers.

"When you aren't fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," Lily said quietly, "I read that in a muggle book once, and it's true."

"Or you simply do not learn how to love at all," Tom countered.

"Everyone loves something, Tom," Lily said, her eyes on him even as he refused to look at her, "It doesn't have to be another person. I don't know if you love Bellatrix, but I know that you love Nagini."

Tom sighed and rested his head against the cool glass windowpane, "I do not love Bellatrix, I may have felt a great deal of fondness towards her once, but that was a long time ago."

Lily said nothing, knowing that one wrong word could set him off.

"And I have no idea if I will be able to love her child when it is born," Tom confessed, " _My_ child, as Harry insists on reminding me."

At this, Lily's eyes widened, "Bellatrix is pregnant?"

Tom kept his gaze on the darkening grounds, "Yes. The baby will be born early next year. January, Narcissa believes."

She was silent because as much as she tried to cover it up, Lily was reeling from that confession.

"It is why I have been renovating my old family home," Tom continued, "I would like my daughter to be raised in her family home."

"Daughter," Lily echoed, "Wow…well, congratulations. Although I'm going to hazard a guess that it wasn't a planned baby?"

Tom laughed humourlessly, "Of course it was not planned. I did not even have a say in the child's conception; I believe Bellatrix slipped me a love potion at Beltane."

Lily bit her lip, "Right, hence why you were talking about love potions when we walked in the garden of Malfoy Manor that night."

Tom gave a small nod, "I was conceived under the influence of a love potion myself. It was never something I wanted for a child and, not least, my child. Then again, I never thought much about _my_ child because it was never something I wanted."

"Do you feel differently now it's imminent?" Lily asked curiously.

"I feel like when she is born, I owe her protection," Tom said, looking over at Lily, "And I feel like I would kill anyone who threatened to harm her."

Lily smiled, "That sounds like love to me."

Tom scoffed and looked away, "You are a romantic, just like Harry."

Lily shrugged, "Maybe, but you know…it's not a crime to love something you can't explain."

Tom said nothing, and they fell into a comfortable silence. The sun completed its descent, and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. Lily rested her head against the glass windowpane and looked up at them; it posed a question that she voiced aloud.

"I suppose she will be named for the stars," Lily mused, "Your daughter, her being a Black and all."

"I suppose she will be," Tom agreed.

Lily could tell that she wouldn't get anything else out of him on that front, so she changed the subject, "Harry is worried about me."

"I know," Tom said dryly, "I can hear his thoughts all of the time. I wish he would learn how to quiet his mind."

"I think he will when he realises how he feels about Daphne Greengrass," Lily said.

With a slight frown, Tom nodded, "Yes, it is rare that his mind is quiet, but when it is, he tends to be with the Greengrass girl or Narcissa."

"He loves Narcissa like a mother, but Daphne calms him and quietens his mind," Lily said, glancing over at Tom, "I'm observant, which is why I can tell how he feels about her even though he can't."

Tom smiled in amusement, "Do you plan on heeding Harry's advice to stay away from dangerous men?"

Lily smiled cryptically, "Of course I don't."

With a soft chuckle, Tom looked up and caught her eye.

Lily leant forward and brushed her lips against his in the most chaste kiss. She was testing the waters, unsure how Tom would react. He did not reciprocate, but he did not push her away either.

"I don't believe what they say about you," Lily said, her voice barely a whisper and her eyes on his.

"What do they say?" Tom asked, his voice equally low and quiet.

Lily did not break eye contact, "That there is nothing human left in you. No good, no kindness, no love."

Tom's eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to her lips, "They are right about one thing, Lily. I am not human, not anymore."

"And I don't care," Lily said, brushing her lips against his once more. This time, Tom reached up and cradled her face with his cold hands, but Lily didn't flinch at his touch. She reached up with her right hand and placed it on top of Tom's, and her warmth flooded him. The warmth of her body against his, the warmth of her hand resting on his and the warmth of her kiss.

All he ever longed for these days was warmth. It was why his favourite place to sit was by a roaring fire because ever since his rebirth, he had been cold and empty. The emptiness was a feeling he had gotten used to, but lately, he could feel the hole inside him growing bigger, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to fill it.

Tom broke the kiss but did not move away from Lily. He rested his head against hers and spoke softly, "I am not human, and I miss it."

Lily's knowing, caring eyes met his.

"I miss it more than anything in the world," Tom said in a whisper, "More than I ever thought I could. That is my secret, the thing I am most afraid to tell anyone."

Lily's breath caught in her throat, "That you long to have it back, your humanity? That's your secret?"

Tom sighed and closed his eyes, "That is my secret, and it has to remain such because I am the villain in this story."

Lily ran her thumb over his eyelids and murmured against his lips, "You're not the villain in my story."

When her lips met his again, Tom did not resist. Instead, he let his guard down, and he melted into her warmth, he let her humanity flood him, and he let it remind him what it felt like to be human, to be whole, to not have his soul fractured and battered and bruised. It was intoxicating, _she_ was intoxicating, and all Tom wanted was to drink her in forever.

Lily bravely moved closer to him and pushed herself onto her knees, deepening the kiss as she did so. Tom kept one hand on the side of her face and rested the other on her hip somewhat tentatively. She still found it strange that someone capable of such terrible things could be so soft at times like this.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Lily pushed herself onto his lap to straddle him and paused before claiming his lips again. Her eyes met his, and she saw the uncertainty shining there.

"I don't care," Lily promised, brushing her lips against his, "About your past, your age, I don't care about any of it."

Tom kept his gaze on hers, "I am a dangerous man, Lilith."

"And I don't care," Lily said, more firmly that time.

She didn't give him a chance to argue further. Instead, Lily silenced him with another kiss, a harder one, conveying more need than her first tentative attempts. This time, Tom returned the kiss properly; he tangled his hands in her hair and deepened the kiss by nipping her lower lip. With a surprised gasp, Lily opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue slide over hers.

She shifted against him, already feeling the wetness in her lace panties, and she mentally congratulated herself for keeping her skirt on after classes ended that day. Then Tom flicked his tongue, and Lily moaned, all other thoughts flying from her head.

Tom Riddle was good at everything, so Lily didn't know why she was surprised to discover that he was such a damn good kisser. He didn't kiss her hard, and he wasn't trying to wrestle her for control like Harry tended to.

No, Tom kissed her like she was the oxygen that he needed to breathe. His tongue explored every corner of her mouth, and when she felt the bulge of his cock against her, Lily moaned into him.

He noticed, of course, and he shifted ever so slightly. It was just enough so that he could raise his hips and make Lily moan softly, but it wasn't a power play. He wasn't getting off on controlling her; he just seemed to feel satisfied by knowing her body well enough to know how to please her.

After what felt like an age, Tom broke the kiss and rested his head in the crevice of her neck. His soft lips were warm against the sensitive skin there.

"Tom," Lily moaned when he lay a kiss on her neck.

At her utterance of his name, she felt him grow harder beneath her, and Lily groaned. She had no idea how far he would let her take this, but she had taken enough risks already, so Lily unzipped and unbuttoned Tom's smart dress trousers. She felt him stiffen up as she did so, and she was fully expecting to be tossed off him and punished.

However, Tom made no move to do any such thing. He raised his hips slightly and let her pull his trousers and boxers down. Then a groan got lost in his throat when she took his cock in her hand and tugged gently.

With her free hand, Lily cupped Tom's cheek and brought his lips to hers once more. He seemed relieved like somehow everything else was easier to accept when he could lose himself in her hot, tender kisses.

Taking advantage of his moment of calmness, Lily silently vanished her panties and used her hand to slip Tom inside her. She pressed down on him slowly because he was bigger than Harry, and as desperate as she was, she wasn't stupid. Tom broke the kiss, a guttural moan leaving his lips. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, her breaths a little shaky as she locked eyes with him.

Once she had pressed herself down so that Tom was buried deep inside of her, Lily rotated her hips slowly without breaking eye contact, and Tom groaned, his resolve close to breaking. He wasn't used to being at a woman's whims. Ordinarily, he was the instigator of his sexual endeavours, but this was unlike any other sexual experience he'd had before.

The warmth of her lips as they brushed against his own, and her petite body, pressed against his, combined with the tight heat of _her,_ was just intoxicating. Moving her hands from her hips, Tom slipped them under her jumper and ran them up her sides.

Lily knew he wouldn't do it himself; he let her take the lead, which surprised her if she was honest. But she knew what she wanted, and she knew what she could handle, so she broke the kiss and pulled her jumper off.

Tom ran his hands over her relatively small breasts through the thin lace of the white bralette that she wore, and Lily moaned when his fingers brushed over her hard nipples.

Lily unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his back. Then she placed her hands back on the side of his face and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard and pressing their bodies together.

That was when Toms resolve broke. He kissed her back, hard and quick, his hands tangling in her hair and gripping so tightly that it almost hurt. Groaning into her mouth, Tom bucked his hips and rocked into her. Lily gasped and broke the kiss, moving her hands to his shoulders as he began to move against her quickly, rocking into her in a solid rhythm. Lily was grateful that they were in a remote tower far away from the rest of the school because when Tom reached between their bodies and moved his thumb against her clit in time with his thrusts, Lily cried out louder than she ever had in any sexual experience. Tom mouthed kisses against her neck as he brought her to the edge faster than she thought possible.

Lily gripped him tightly, her nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure pooled inside of her. She pressed down into him, panting his name like a mantra as she tightened around his throbbing cock, a mind-shattering orgasm rocking her to the core.

She was so deep in the throes of pleasure that she almost didn't hear the shuddering breath that fell from his lips when he gripped her hips and rocked into her through her orgasm. As a true man of minimal words, he said nothing, but Lily felt his body tense up, and she knew what that meant. The sound that left his lips was beautiful – it was the moan of a dying man who had just had his first sip of water.

Lily was breathing heavily, her heart raced, and her lips were dry. She dropped her head onto Tom's shoulder and placed a soft kiss there, forcing a contented sound from his lips. Their skin glistened with sweat that was beginning to cool in the draught from the window.

For the first time in a long time, Tom felt warm.

* * *

Harry was minding his own business, playing his usual evening chess game with Draco in the Head Common Room. If he was honest, when school was over and they went their separate ways, he would miss this nightly ritual that had started in his temporary blindness so many months ago.

He was staring at the board, trying to work out if he should sacrifice his rook to take Draco's knight when his scar prickled in a familiar way – the way it did before he saw into the Dark Lords minds.

A vision burst into his head – of Lily, her hair all over the place, her soft lips on his – except they weren't his lips, they were Tom's. He felt an echo of shock, a wave of pleasure – emotions he knew weren't his own.

If he had been alone, it would have been one thing; he would have had to admit to himself that he was absurdly turned on by it, and he would probably bite the bullet and relieve himself.

But he wasn't alone; he was playing chess with Draco, Theo was sitting next to him, and Daphne was only a short distance away.

Harry shifted awkwardly and tried to focus on the chessboard, and then he heard Lily's voice in his head, moaning, " _Tom_."

"Oh, for fucks sake."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I know you're shit at chess, Harry, but-"

Harry shook his head and shut his eyes tightly, "Shut up; it's not about chess."

The vision intensified, and Harry put up his strongest mental shields; he used every bit of Occlumency that he could remember.

"He's sleeping with Lily, and he's obviously emotional because he's unintentionally flooding my head with bloody emotions," Harry muttered irritably.

From across the room, Daphne looked up, her attention piqued.

It was a Saturday night, and as she had taken to doing as of late, Daphne was writing up an essay away from the hustle and bustle of the Slytherin common room. 

As he tried to push the visions away, they became more hazy and blurred; the sounds became muffled rather than sharp and loud. He opened his eyes, hoping that would help and as he did so, he saw Daphne crossing the room.

Before he had time to work out what she was doing, she placed her hands on his shoulders and narrowed her eyes in concentration.

Suddenly, a wave of cold rushed through him from the spot on his shoulders where Daphne's hands were, and Harry made a very high-pitched unmanly noise as it felt like he had been plunged into a metaphorical ice bath.

"Daphne!" He squeaked.

Daphne cast her gaze downward, "It worked, didn't it?"

Harry nodded, his head felt clear – his thoughts were his own, "Thank Merlin for that."

Theo snorted in amusement, and Draco was beside himself with laughter at Harry's discomfort.

Harry got to his feet and disappeared into his bedroom, emerging a few seconds later with his trusty little beetle in his ear, "Draco, remind me to tell your Dad how great he is for getting me this, the next time I'm at the manor."

"I wouldn't; his ego doesn't need inflating," Draco drawled.

"What does it do?" Daphne asked curiously.

"It affects the brain waves; it blocks the connection between the Dark Lord and me," Harry explained.

"How-"

"I can't tell you why we have it," Harry cut her off, "But when one of us loses control of our emotions, our occlumency slips, and we see into each other's heads."

"And he's sleeping with Lily right now?" Daphne asked, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Harry nodded, "Yep, so I see that she ignored all of our warnings about the danger that posed."

"Well," Daphne said, grabbing her bag, "On her head, be it."

Harry leant back on the sofa to look at her, "Unless I'm in another tricky fix, please don't ice me again because that was literally the worst thing I've ever experienced."

Daphne smirked and slung her bag over her shoulder, "Next time, I'll leave you to suffer through the uncomfortable visions," she said, her eyes flashing playfully as she turned and stalked away.

Harry watched her go, his eyes falling to her arse.

"And you owe me, _again_ ," Daphne called, strutting into his bedroom to get back to the Slytherin common room.

"Oh, how I long to see her smirking like that and walking into my bedroom for another reason," Harry said as the door swung shut behind the blonde girl.

Theo scoffed, and Draco looked at him as if to say, 'Really? You oblivious, insensitive idiot!'

In fact, the look he gave him was so reminiscent of one Hermione had always given him that it made Harry's heart ache to see her again.

"What?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow, "You think I'm gonna cry cause Harry wants to shag girls as well as boys?"

"Well, you two are rather attached these days," Draco pointed out.

"Yeah, and we've also never been exclusive," Theo said, leaning back on the sofa, "She's hot. I'd happily have her sandwiched between me and you, Harry."

"Theo, she's your cousin!" Draco exclaimed.

"And?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow at Draco, "My parents were cousins, and they got married and had me!"

Harry made a face, "Purebloods, you're just like the Borgias."

"Who the fuck are the Borgias?" Theo asked.

"Incestual old muggle family," Harry said with a wave of his hand.

He glanced over at Theo, "How convincing do you think I am?"

"Pretty convincing," Theo replied, eying Harry with interest, "Why? Who are you trying to convince, and what do you want them to do?"

"What do you think it would take to get Daphne to form a magical triad with us?"

Draco laughed out loud, "I can answer that for you – a miracle, Harry."

Theo nodded in amusement, "A fucking miracle. It would be great though, a Potter, a Greengrass and a Nott…"

"Pity it'll never happen," Draco drawled.

"Our children would be beautiful _and_ smart," Harry mused.

"Not to mention imaginary," Draco said, smirking and getting to his feet, "Checkmate."

Harry looked at the chessboard and cursed.

"Oh, you bastard! You cheated!"

"I didn't cheat; you just weren't paying attention."

"I was getting a play-by-play of Lily shagging the Dark Lord, come on!"

"It's still checkmate," Draco said with his trademark smirk, "Goodnight, boys."

Harry kicked the chessboard over irritably, and Theo patted him on the shoulder while biting back an amused grin.

*** ~ TBC ~ ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who don't like the Lily/Tom aspect, sorry! Hope the sex scene didn't put you off too much. I nearly cut it after the last spate of bad comments, but I feel its important to the storyline, so I decided not to, in the end :)


	30. The Battle Keeps Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The November full moon arrives, and with it comes drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> War on a Desperate Man by Eli Young Band.

Harry wasn't keeping tabs on Lily, but he did notice her the minute she walked into the great hall the following morning. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were right next to each other, which meant that Lily had to walk straight by him to get to her table.

"Good morning, Lilith," Harry said, catching her attention.

Lily turned around and raised an eyebrow at him, "Good morning, Harry. Why the unusual civility?"

Harry patted a spot next to him at the table, and Lily, being curious, took a seat. He shot his nosy housemates an amused look and murmured, " _Muffliato_."

Lily rolled her eyes, "You know."

"Yes, Lily, I know," Harry said, "Actually, I _saw_. He was obviously feeling vulnerable or emotional."

"Hm," Lily mused, "I would say that's a good bet."

"You know that he and I have a mental link so next time, tell him to close his mind first," Harry remarked.

Lily grabbed an apple from the table and cancelled the muffliato spell. She smirked and walked away from the table without another word.

Tracey watched Lily's retreating form and mused aloud, "I wonder what has her strutting her stuff."

"Oh, if only you knew," Daphne said, meeting Harry's eyes and smirking.

Harry grinned in response.

Tracey noticed and raised her eyebrows, "Never mind Lilith Black; what happened between you two?"

Sophie nodded and swallowed her mouthful, "The sexual tension is coming out of your pores," she agreed.

Daphne picked up a pear and smiled sweetly at her friends, "Oh, don't be such gossiping witches, ladies. It isn't becoming," she said, flipping her hair back and stalking out of the hall.

Tracey and Sophie turned their attention to Harry, who smirked and said, "A gentleman doesn't tell."

Theo snorted and looked around dramatically, "There's a gentleman here? Where is he? I don't see him."

Harry kicked Theo under the table to the amusement of the other girls, and thankfully, it also moved the topic of conversation away from himself and Daphne.

* * *

Harry made sure to arrive early for Offensive Magic on Monday morning. He stepped into the room and closed the door; Tom didn't even look up. He was sitting behind his desk in one of his perfectly tailored three-piece-suits, having skipped breakfast that morning.

"I brought you breakfast," Harry said, throwing an apple his way.

Tom raised a hand and caught it deftly without looking up, "Thank you. May I ask the reason behind this uncharacteristic show of emotion?"

"Figured you ought to keep your strength up, what with your recent extra-curricular activities."

Tom looked up, amusement sparkling in his eyes, "I'm sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said as if this were obvious, "I didn't need to see you defiling my ex in a greenhouse."

"It was the Herbology Tower," Tom corrected, looking down and marking a paper.

"Whatever," Harry muttered, "Tom, are you seriously grading first-year papers right now? You're the Dark Lord; you control the wizarding world."

"Exactly, grading the papers of idiotic first years is a welcome reprieve from the constant pressure," Tom drawled, stamping a 'T' on one such paper and taking great satisfaction out of doing so.

Harry rolled his eyes and sat down in his seat at the front of the room as other class members began to file in. He looked at Tom and thought, _Well, if you aimed to teach me a lesson, consider it done and if that's what happens every time my emotions get out of check, I'm sorry that I'm not better at Occlumency._

Tom met his eye and thought, _Apology accepted._

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How had he been the one who had ended up apologising? That wasn't how he had expected that conversation to go at all. He kept quiet as Draco sat down on one side of him, and then seconds later, Daphne took her seat on his other side.

Lily walked into the class after that. She looked Tom right in the eye and smiled, "Good morning, Professor Riddle."

Tom returned her smile, "Good morning, Miss Black."

Harry contained an eye-roll and let his head drop onto his head with a loud thump. From the table behind, Tracey asked, "What's up with Potter?"

Daphne smiled knowingly and patted Harry on the back, "He just had a bit of a tough night last night, studying hard and all."

Harry opened one eye and glared at her, and she smiled sweetly in response.

* * *

Daphne asked to study in the head common room again that evening, and Harry let her. Lily was out on a head girl patrol, but Harry expected that she was with Tom, and for once, Theo hadn't come straight to the head common room after dinner.

Harry wondered if he had offended his friend by asking him about the magical triad, but if Theo was offended, he hadn't let on.

They had spent the majority of the evening in harmonious silence when Harry looked up and surveyed Daphne as the dwindling firelight danced across her face.

"Daphne?"

"Hm," She said distractedly.

"What's your opinion on magical triads?"

Daphne looked up and raised an eyebrow at Harry, "That I would never consider one with my cousin."

Harry cursed inwardly, and she looked back down at her book. He watched her flip the page, watched as her eyes skimmed the words.

"But you're not entirely opposed to the idea," Harry noted.

Without looking up, Daphne said, "No. Why would I be? They are perfectly legally binding, and because they enable magic sharing and boost magic, they are also incredibly powerful."

"Hm," Harry mused, "I thought you would have been opposed to ancient blood magic rituals and the like, you being a neutral and all."

Daphne shot Harry an amused look, "You think only traditionalists form magical triads?"

Harry leant forward in his chair, "Don't they?"

With a shake of her head, Daphne closed her book and gave Harry her full attention, "You've heard of the Nyx Triad?"

Harry frowned, "The three witches who worked with Grindelwald?"

"Uh-huh," Daphne said, looking Harry in the eye, "A blonde, a redhead and a brunette. They were scarily powerful, and everyone speculated that they were a triad in every aspect of the word."

That made something stir in Harry, and from the smirk on her face, Daphne noticed.

"Everyone knows them by their nicknames – Ada, Belle and Elfie."

Harry nodded; it was all ringing bells now, "They fought with Grindelwald. They were like his magical bodyguards, and they were insanely powerful."

Daphne nodded, "They were. Do you know what their full names were?"

Harry shook his head and smirked, "No, but I'm guessing you're going to tell me."

Daphne leant forward, and for reasons Harry couldn't explain, his eyes were drawn to her lips as she slowly said the names, "Adelaide Greengrass, Belvina Bones and Elphaba Black."

That made the cogs in Harry's head whir like mad. He couldn't help it; a vision came to his mind of Daphne, Susan, and Lily fighting together and stirred something inside him.

"You're picturing me fighting with Susan and Lily right now, aren't you?" Daphne asked.

Harry drew himself back to the present, "Uh, yes. I was."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "It turned you on a little, didn't it?" she asked. It was almost seductive, the way she whispered those words.

Harry leant back in his chair, crossing his legs and ignoring the smirk on her face, "What can I say? I'm drawn to powerful witches."

"Obviously," Daphne said, her smirk turning into a smile as she got to her feet.

Harry's mind was far away as she packed her book and her parchment away. He almost forgot to ask her about the thing that had been on his mind earlier in the day, before magical triads had entered his thoughts.

"Oh, Daphne," Harry said, his eyes snapping up, "Do you think you could do me a favour?"

"Another one? You seem to be asking for a lot of them lately."

"I know," Harry admitted sheepishly, "But you're a useful person to know."

Daphne caught his eye as she tried to determine if he was genuine or sarcastic, "Am I?"

Harry nodded, "And not because you're a Greengrass but just because you're _you_. I thought you might be able to help Ginny, to teach her control."

Daphne thought about that for a moment, "It takes years to learn control. I can't teach her overnight."

"But you could teach her," Harry said, "I have never met anyone who can control their emotions the way that you can."

Daphne smiled. She held up her hand and did a little movement with her wrist, "Controlling your emotions is how you perform intricate magic like this."

A miniature ice storm began to brew in the palm of her hand. Harry watched with amazement, and Daphne smirked, blowing it out with what Harry perceived to be quite a seductive move.

"That is impressive," Harry said, cocking his head at her, "And I agree that control comes into it, but power does too. So how do you do it?"

"I'm from a powerful bloodline," Daphne answered evasively.

"Oh, I guessed that much when I saw your family cast their Patronuses at Midsummer," Harry admitted, his gaze not wavering, "But that powerful, raw magic that you just did? That suggests you're from an even more powerful bloodline than I first realised…a Founders line."

Daphne said nothing, but Harry continued, "I'm the last of Gryffindor's bloodline, and I know who the last descendant of Slytherin is, which means it has to be Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff."

Daphne raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to work out loud, "I doubt it's Hufflepuff because then you would be able to control earth magic, but Ravenclaw was known for controlling the element of air, not water or ice."

With a smirk, Daphne pointed out, "Air is everything. It shapes glaciers and cliff faces alike. It can whip up a storm or produce a gentle summer breeze. You guessed right; the Greengrass's are direct descendants of Rowena Ravenclaw."

Harry watched her with interest, "Why ice?"

Daphne shrugged, "It's unyielding, strong, immovable."

"A force to be reckoned with," Harry said with a smile.

Daphne nodded and twisted her fingers, creating a flurry of snow that formed the shape of a cat. She tapped it wand her wand, and it meowed then ran around the palm of her hand.

Harry smiled, captivated by the intricate magic; it was the sort of thing he could imagine a mother doing for their child.

"So, will you help Ginny control her temper?" Harry asked.

"Doesn't she have anyone else who can teach her how to live with the curse?" Daphne asked, blowing the snow cat away when she noticed Artemis looking at it warily.

Harry's eyes were on the basilisk lounging at Daphne's feet, "She has her Aunt Beth, who can help her live with the banshee, but this is different. Beth is teaching her how to communicate with the banshee and preparing her for the fact that if they are to co-exist, Ginny will have to let Aideen feed."

"Aideen?" Daphne asked.

"The banshee," Harry clarified, "But the problem is that if Ginny loses her temper, she will unwittingly let Aideen out, and she could kill someone that she doesn't want to kill."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully and didn't flinch as Artemis slithered up onto her, "I think I can help her control her temper, but you really do owe me a few favours."

Harry was about to say he knew that when Artemis hissed, " _She is right."_

Harry rolled his eyes, "Sweet Salazar, even my snake is taking your side."

Daphne smirked and gave him a suggestive look as she ran a finger across the top of Artemis's head, earning a satisfied hiss from the snake. Artemis looked up at Daphne, and unlike everyone else, she didn't look away in fear.

"You're the only one who does that, you know?" Harry mused, "Everyone else freaks out when she looks at them."

"That's because they don't know that she has a third eyelid," Daphne said, looking up at Harry.

Harry smiled and nodded, "It's clear, but it stops her from aimlessly killing everyone she looks at. Not that she can kill yet, she's nowhere near fully matured."

"It will take decades for her to be fully mature, won't it?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, and centuries for her to reach the size of the basilisk in the chamber of secrets," Harry added with a nod.

Daphne kept her hand on Artemis's head, but she didn't look away from Harry, "Are you still concerned about Lily?"

Harry thought about that for a moment, then shook his head, "No. Since I met the Dark Lord, he has carried more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear. He was betrayed, deceived, hurt. By the time I met him, he had already crossed hell, and the only time I saw peace in his eyes was when he saw her."

Daphne smiled genuinely; it wasn't overly sweet or false, "Are you saying he loves her?"

Harry laughed, "I don't know. I think he _can_ love, but not in the conventional way that we think of love. I think she makes him want to stop merely existing for power and actually live again."

Daphne met his eye, "And what makes _you_ want to stay alive?"

Harry held her gaze for a moment longer than he needed to, "I've been asking myself that question a lot lately."

"Let me know when you work it out," Daphne said, casting her eyes downward once more.

Harry smiled sadly, aware that the moment was over, "I will," he promised.

* * *

"Weasley."

Ginny looked up at the imposing blonde girl who was hovering by the Gryffindor table. She laughed bitterly, "Harry really thinks I'm broken, huh?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "He thinks you need help; there is a difference. Do you want to go for a walk?"

Ginny sighed and got to her feet, "Sure, but grab some toast."

"Why?" Daphne asked, frowning at the bundle of toast in a napkin that Ginny had just given her.

"It's just a thing that Harry introduced me to," Ginny said with a shrug, "Come on."

With a bemused expression on her face, Daphne followed Ginny outside. She pulled her fur-lined cloak close to her as the wind blew across the grounds – November was wearing on, and Daphne suspected that the snow would come soon.

When they got to the lake, Ginny took the toast and threw it in, but a tentacle grabbed it before it could hit the water.

"The squid likes toast?"

"The squid likes most things," Ginny said, pulling her own, thin cloak around herself and sitting down on a wet rock, "Apart from Ravenclaws, it wouldn't eat Michael Corner when I tried to feed him to it."

Daphne chuckled, " _That_ comes as no surprise. I'm not quite sure what you saw in him."

"That makes two of us," Ginny said with a small smile.

Daphne looked over her with interest, "How is Longbottom?"

Ginny's eyes flashed, and Daphne saw the tell-tale amber glow, "He's okay. Matron Malfoy says he will be allowed out of the hospital wing soon. The damage to his ears has been repaired now it's just…it's just his hearing."

"It isn't your fault, you know?"

Ginny scoffed, "It doesn't matter how many people tell me that, I'll never stop blaming myself. I lost control, and I let the banshee out."

"You also had no idea what you had living inside you," Daphne pointed out.

Ginny shrugged and looked out at the lake, "Don't waste your breath. I think I'll probably spend the rest of my life blaming myself for what happened. Aunt Beth told me it was better just to accept that."

Daphne nodded and followed her line of sight, "I don't think you need my help, you know? You're a smart girl, and you know the cost of losing your temper."

"You only spoke to me because Harry asked you to," Ginny guessed.

"I thought it might set his mind at ease," Daphne confessed, "He's worried about you, and he carries a lot of guilt over what happened between you two."

Ginny bit back a comment about how Harry should have done after what he had accused her of.

"It's clear to anyone with eyes that he likes you, but just be careful," Ginny cautioned, "You act like you're indestructible, but you're not."

Daphne gave Ginny a sideways glance, "I'm a big girl, Ginny. I know exactly what men like him are like."

Ginny frowned, "Maybe it's easier for you because you didn't know the Harry before this one, but I did. And this new Harry, yes, he still has some of the old one's compassion, but he also looks at people and sees what they can give him. He wants me on his side so I can become his own personal assassin."

"He wants you on his side because he is worried about you, and he feels responsible for your fate," Daphne countered, "I wouldn't be so sure that the Harry you knew is gone. I think he has just evolved, but hidden underneath all of those battle scars is the boy you knew."

Ginny smiled a little sadly and looked over at Daphne, "Spoken like someone who is in love with him."

With a laugh, Daphne shook her head, "No – just someone observant."

She held out her hand to help Ginny up. The younger girl accepted the outstretched hand and sighed in relief, "Your hands are so cold."

"Yours are so hot," Daphne said, looking at Ginny in surprise, "It's like reaching into a fire."

"It's a side effect of having the banshee inside of me," Ginny admitted, "It's why banshees favour cold areas like the Irish hills and islands or the isles and highlands of Scotland."

Daphne placed both of her hands on either side of Ginny's face and used the same powerful, element magic that she had on Harry. It made Ginny shiver. It was as if the blood in her veins had turned into ice water, and it was so soothing; it made her sigh in relief.

"Can we be friends?"

Daphne laughed as it began to snow, "Don't you think we should get back inside?"

Ginny looked up and sighed happily once more, "I kind of want to stay out on it for a little longer, but you don't have to stay with me."

Daphne smiled and hooked her arm through Ginny's. With a shrug, she said, "The cold has never bothered me much anyway."

* * *

Harry was practising an intricate magical spell that evening when Theo walked into his dorm room.

"Didn't anyone ever warn you not to play with fire?"

Harry chuckled and threw the miniature fireball in his hand at Theo. The other boy was expecting it because he put up a watery shield charm. The ball of fire extinguished the moment it hit it, and Theo dropped the shield.

"You're practising elemental magic?"

Harry nodded; he was lying on his back in the middle of his bed, "Hm, yeah. I'm feeling inspired after some of the neat things that Daphne showed me she could do with ice."

Theo snorted, "Do I wanna know?"

Harry shot him an amused look, "She's a tough nut to crack, isn't she?"

"Daphne?" Theo mused, throwing himself onto Harry's bed, "I suppose so. They call her the Ice Queen for a reason, after all. She _is_ like ice – she thaws, and then before you know it, she's frozen over again."

Harry turned his head to the side to look at Theo, "I don't get why it's ice, though. Ice is frozen water, and she's the descendant of Ravenclaw, so she should be able to control air."

"Ice is just a change in the air temperature though, isn't it?" Theo asked, "And any descendant of Ravenclaw is also a descendant of Slytherin, bear in mind?"

"True," Harry mused, "So what can the descendant of Hufflepuff do then? Plant some seeds and make them grow like in Jack and the fucking Beanstalk?"

Theo snorted, "I have no idea who Jack is or what he does with his beanstalk and no, the heir of Hufflepuff can control the earth, Harry. That means if they learn to control their power, they can cause earthquakes, suck people into the ground itself, some pretty scary shit. I don't think Susie Bones knows half of what she can do, though."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Susan Bones is a descendant of Hufflepuff?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that?"

Harry shook his head, "No, but that is interesting…"

Theo rolled onto his side and smirked at Harry, "Is your recent obsession with my cousin going to deter you if I do this?"

Harry already knew where Theo was going with that, so when he kissed him, Harry smirked and muttered against his lips, "Definitely not."

"Just don't call me Daphne, or I'll have to cry myself to sleep," Theo teased.

"Shut up, Theo," Harry mumbled, silencing his friend with another kiss.

* * *

In the days leading up to the full moon, Harry grew increasingly nervous. He had been back at Hogwarts for the best part of three months now, and this would be the second initiation ceremony with no recruits. As the Dark Lords self-professed Recruitment Specialist, Harry knew how that reflected on him, and he worried that he might be punished because of that.

He didn't dare voice that opinion to anyone, not even to Theo. Instead, he kept quiet and tried to avoid thinking about the full moon. He was hopeful that nothing would happen, that the Dark Lord would not elect to call a Death Eater meeting but deep down, he knew that was unlikely.

On the evening of the full moon, Lily snuck out after curfew, which meant she was meeting with Tom. Harry breathed a sigh of relief because that meant there would be no meeting and hopefully no collateral damage for Harry.

He had secured a good deal with the Shafiq's and had convinced the Lovegoods to keep their noses out of the war, after all. He had even gotten the Browns on their side, but the only Death Eater he had recruited was Lily, and that had been two full moons ago.

* * *

While Theo did his best to distract Harry from his racing thoughts, Lily sat on Tom's desk in his office, swinging her feet and cradling a cup of coffee.

"I get what you're saying about the whole master of death thing," Lily was saying as she looked at the open copy of " _The Tales Of Beedle the Bard"_.

"But I still think it's a theoretical concept because otherwise, you would basically be a grim reaper, wouldn't you?"

"What makes you think I am not?" Tom asked, his eyes on hers.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, "I know you think you're playing God-"

"Playing God?" Tom interrupted, "What about me makes you think I am merely playing? I am acting as God, defeating God, remoulding God, wiping away the face of God and creating something better."

"In your own image," Lily finished, her eyes meeting his, "And some people would argue that doing so is insane."

"Insane or divine?" Tom cut in, "Mad or genius? Either way, it is two sides of a spectrum that the people which you speak of, are too dull to comprehend."

Lily said nothing, her eyes still on his.

"But you, Lilith Black, are anything but dull," Tom said, his eyes sparkling with intrigue and hovering on her lips, "I saw the look on your face in my first lesson. You were fascinated, some might say enraptured."

Lily smiled. No matter how much she might want to, she could not take her eyes off of Tom's – it was like a magnetic pull, drawing them together. She grabbed his tie and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard and running a hand up his side. Lily had learned how cold he was; she knew now how much he longed for warmth, and the heat she emitted was intoxicating to him.

So when Tom pulled away abruptly, at first, Lily felt offended. But then she felt the familiar burning sensation in her arm. She looked back to Tom, "Who pressed their mark?"

"Crouch," Tom said with a frown, "And he pressed it three times. That means that whatever it is – it is urgent."

* * *

Harry threw himself back onto his soft quilt, sighing contentedly when his head hit the pillows.

Theo laughed and rolled over next to him, "By Merlin, I'm good."

Harry chuckled and glanced over, "Not to mention arrogant."

Theo grinned triumphantly, "It's why you keep me around, right?"

"Not exactly," Harry said, smiling up at the ceiling, "You're good company, Theo. When the shit is hitting the fan, you understand. You keep me calm and grounded, you know?"

"Mhmm," Theo said sleepily.

"I wasn't pushing you away or shunning you," Harry said, "I mean, I _was_ flirting with Daphne, but I would never push you out for her."

"You'd just coerce her into a triad?" Theo joked.

Harry laughed; he propped himself up on his elbow to look Theo in the eye, "Exactly."

Theo looked right back at him. They were silent for a moment, then Harry closed the gap and kissed Theo without the usual desperation or anger – it was slower, more tentative, more like he was opening up his soul. Harry wanted to tell him everything, about how much of a close eye the Dark Lord was keeping on him, about the constant pressure he felt, but he knew that he couldn't.

That was his burden to bear, not Theo's.

The thought flitted out of Harry's head when the door was forced open by some unseen force. Harry jolted apart from Theo and grabbed his wand instinctively as Daphne stepped into the room.

"Greengrass – thought you weren't interested in a threesome?" Harry joked.

"Shut the fuck up," Daphne snapped, "Nott – get out!"

On the word 'out', the dressing table was thrown against the opposite wall.

Harry kept his eyes on Daphne but lowered his voice and said, "Theo, I think you had better do as she says."

"But-"

"Just do it," Harry hissed.

Theo didn't need to be told again; he grabbed his clothes, threw them on and dashed past Daphne. Harry murmured a spell under his breath, instantly clothing himself.

The room temperature dropped dramatically when the door shut behind Theo, and when an invisible wind picked up, it felt like the beginnings of a hurricane.

"I need your help," Daphne said.

Harry looked at the shaking pieces of furniture and the ice that was starting to form on the mirror; he had never seen Daphne lose control – of her temper or her magic.

"I can see that," Harry said carefully, "What happened?"

"They took my sister!" Daphne snapped, the wind picking up enough to pull pieces of furniture into it, "The Army of the Phoenix took my sister!"

Harry raised his hands, shut his eyes and murmured an incantation. He brought his hands down, instantly quieting the winds and defrosting the surfaces, "Okay. Calm down."

Daphne took a breath and looked Harry in the eye, "Can you help?"

"Of course I can help," Harry answered. He took a step forward and grabbed her hand, "You know those debts you've been saving up every time you do me a favour?"

Daphne nodded.

"It looks like it's time to cash them in," Harry said, his eyes scanning hers, "Even if we aren't on the same side."

Daphne sighed, "I'm past caring about sides, Harry. I'm here because I made a choice. I know that the Army of the Phoenix took her so I could have gone to the Order, but I didn't-"

"Not out of any sense of loyalty to me," Harry cut in, "You didn't go to them because you know that they won't do anything. You know as well as I do how infighting amongst the light is going to affect morale. You came to me because you had no other choice but to resort to the 'dark' side."

"Why I came doesn't matter," Daphne said, her eyes boring into his, "But for some insane reason, I feel like I can trust you. And mark my words, I will do whatever it takes to get my sister back. You can have the Dark Lord mark me, whatever you want, but just know that this doesn't reflect on my family. I came here to ask for your help of my own accord, not because my father told me to."

"I'll help you," Harry said, his eyes on Daphne's, "I would always have helped you, and I don't have terms. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do because your sister is a kid, Daphne, and if there's anything I hate more than manipulative bastards, its people who drag kids into their battles."

Daphne nodded a little tearfully.

"I'll just ask one thing of you," Harry admitted, "And that is, when I find her, you come with me to get her out. Your power could be useful, and I think we both know that Astoria won't trust anyone apart from you."

With another nod, Daphne asked, "How are you going to find her?"

"You are going to tell me everything that you know so that we can work out exactly who took her and where they took her to."

* * *

Tom was just about to apparate out of Hogwarts to find out what had caused Julian Crouch to urgently call forth his presence when the door to his office burst open.

Harry sucked in a deep breath, "The light has kidnapped Astoria Greengrass."

"Ah," Tom said, looking out of the window, thoughtfully, "That explains why Julian Crouch just called us to arms."

Harry glanced down, "Did he? I didn't notice."

"You didn't notice your arm burning?" Lily asked in disbelief.

"Well, Daphne Greengrass had just brought the temperature down to minus 5 in my bedroom so," Harry shrugged, "And then there was the hurricane that she was brewing. I swear, when founders heirs lose their shit, they really lose their shit."

"Spoken like a man with experience."

Harry made a face, "Oh, we're doing sarcasm now, are we, Tom?"

Tom gave Harry a long-suffering look, "I presume you are going to act on this?"

"Uh, well, yes," Harry replied, "I sort of just came to ask for your permission."

"Consider it granted," Tom said, his eyes on Harry, "And if you are wise, you will use this opportunity to complete your task."

Harry had seen that one coming; he nodded, "Yes, my lord. Can I request Lily's help? If she's not too busy with you, that is?"

Tom waved his hand, "Lilith was merely educating me on the importance of feelings. Thus, her presence is no longer required here."

"Charming," Lily remarked sarcastically.

Tom's eyes flashed dangerously when they met hers, "Be _careful_."

It was said with such conviction, but it was also an order.

"I will be," Lily promised, grabbing Harry by the wrist and dragging him out of the office.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing," Harry said in an undertone, "Talking to him like that and walking away from a direct order."

"Oh, save your warnings for someone who gives a damn," Lily retorted, "We have bigger fish to fry, don't we? The Army of the Phoenix took Astoria, I presume?"

"Yes," Harry said, "I found out from Daphne, who found out from her older sister, Lydia. She was disowned, and she's working with the light, but with the more peaceful faction. They won't do anything about it though, because they don't want it to become apparent that there is infighting amongst the light."

Lily scoffed, "Fucking typical."

Harry gave a small nod, "Yeah. Long story short, Astoria was taken from the Ravenclaw common room, and Theo says the only people who can pull that off are - "

"- former Ravenclaws who know about the secret entrance, yes," Lily finished, "How the fuck does Theo know about that?"

"Merlin knows," Harry said with a shrug, "But is it true?"

"It is," Lily said. She frowned, "It will only let someone in if they were in Ravenclaw, and it sees through disguises like Polyjuice. Who do we know in the Army of the Phoenix?"

"Molly Weasley, but she was in Gryffindor," Harry replied, "Kingsley Shacklebolt, but he was also in Gryffindor. I reckon they have Ron and Lavender on board, but again they're Gryffindors."

Lily frowned and stopped in the middle of the darkened corridor, "What side is Augusta Longbottom on?"

"The light side, but do you think she would be militant?"

Lily scoffed, "Neville hasn't spoken to you about his Grandmother much, has he?"

"No, not really," Harry admitted.

"She's a real piece of work," Lily said darkly, "She was stern with Neville, but she's also incredibly opinionated, and when she thinks she's right, she will do anything to prove it."

The cogs in Harry's head spun, "And Longbottom House is a perfect place to take Astoria. It was always an Order stronghold, even if it's a ruin these days."

Lily nodded, "But you know what this means, don't you?"

"Yes," Harry said, his eyes darkening, "We need Neville's help."

*** TBC ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiming to get another chapter up this evening, watch this space!


	31. Can You Hear Me Screaming Please Don't Leave Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Longbottom Grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Hold On by Chord Overstreet.

Neville jumped out of his skin when Harry sat down opposite him in the Gryffindor common room – it was late at night, he had been alone, and the fire was dwindling.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" Neville asked, his words rolling off his tongue a little too fast, and a little too loudly.

Harry clicked his fingers, and the dwindling fire roared to life.

" _Professor Riddle told you to sign, not speak,"_ Harry signed.

Neville glared at Harry and signed, " _How the fuck did you get in here?"_

" _Head Boy,"_ Harry signed, pointing at his badge and smirking, " _Privileges."_

Neville narrowed his eyes at his old friend and signed, " _What do you want?"_

" _Knowledge,"_ Harry signed. He leant back in his chair, " _About the family wards on Longbottom House."_

Neville's suspicious look remained, " _Why?"_ he signed.

Harry gave Neville an amused look, " _Because I fancy a walk in Longbottom Grove."_

Neville scoffed, " _Why the fuck are you asking about my family wards?"_

Harry smirked, " _Can I just say, I love that you swear in sign language?"_

Neville gave him a long look, and Harry knew that the Gryffindor's patience was wearing thin. As such, he signed, " _Does your gran make a habit of kidnapping innocent Ravenclaw girls or is Astoria Greengrass special?"_

Neville's expression changed from irritated to alarmed, " _What_?" he signed.

Harry sighed and signed, " _Let me show you; signing takes so long."_

Neville knew what he meant, so he didn't flinch when Harry placed his wand against his forehead and said, " _ **Legilimens**_ _!"_

Harry showed him Daphne coming to him about her sister, and then he ended the spell before Neville could see anything else.

The Gryffindor stared straight ahead, an angry but not unbelieving look on his face. He shook his head and looked at Harry for a long minute, neither of them saying or signing anything.

" _So?"_ Harry eventually signed.

Neville signed, " _You can't get past the family wards unless you are a Longbottom, so it looks like I'm coming with you."_

"Fuck," Harry muttered, then he signed, " _I don't like that idea since you just got out of the hospital wing this week, but you are right. Are you going to bring your girlfriend and her banshee for protection? And are you basically in a triad now, by the way?"_

Neville glared at him and aggressively signed, " _I can protect myself, you dick. I have already had a couple of lessons with Professor Riddle."_

Harry could have rolled his eyes, but he didn't. Instead, he signed, " _Fine, but what's the verdict on Ginny and the banshee?"_

" _She's more than the banshee she shares a body with,"_ Neville signed back.

"He's right," Ginny's voice said, making Harry sit up a little straighter. He looked past Neville to Ginny, who was hovering in the shadows.

"Since when could you read sign language?"

"Since I had Professor Riddle teach it to me," Ginny said, narrowing her eyes at Harry.

"Oh, so you and Professor Riddle are BFF's now? Did you bond over a love of basilisks or something?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Funny," Ginny said dryly, "Speaking of basilisks, where is yours?"

"She likes the dungeons and the bowels of the school," Harry said with a shrug, "Anyway, if you've been eavesdropping – or eavesreading I suppose – into our conversation then you know what's going on."

Neville watched their interaction with interest, but Harry knew he was only getting some of it, lip-reading still wasn't his strongest suit.

"Astoria Greengrass has been kidnapped, yes," Ginny mused, "Why do we give a shit about that? She's neutral, and you want her family on your side as much as the light do. What does that have to do with Neville and I? We're just trying to stay out of this shit-storm."

"Right, and you're going to be okay with the death of a 15-year-old girl being on your conscience while you sit here and knit sweaters and talk about how in love you are in sign language, are you?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Ginny crossed her arms but said nothing.

Harry signed to Neville, " _You realise if you come with us, you will need to fight your grandmother, don't you?"_

Neville signed back, " _She's hardly acting like my grandmother, right now."_

Harry shrugged, " _Fair point,"_ he signed.

Harry then turned back to Ginny and said, "Oh, and for the record, Gin, as to why you would want to help? Yes – the light has taken Astoria, more specifically the militant light led by…oh yes, your mother. You still want her death to be on your hands, don't you?"

Ginny's eyes darkened, "You know that I do."

"So come along, and you can have a pop at her," Harry said, maybe a little too cheerfully.

Ginny sighed, "Fine, we're both on board."

"Great," Harry said, "Come meet the rest of the gang at the strategy meeting."

"Right now?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

Harry shot her a sceptical look, "Yes, right now. Neville's psychotic granny has kidnapped a 15-year-old girl. Haven't you read Little Red Riding Hood? We have no idea what kind of shit is going down at Longbottom House right now."

* * *

When Harry walked into the Head Common Room with Neville and Ginny in tow, Lily and Theo both rolled their eyes.

"Really?" Lily muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, did you have to bring the Gryffindors?" Theo agreed.

"Uh Draco is here, isn't he?" Harry quipped, "And even deaf and with a banshee riding along, these two are probably more useful than he is."

Draco glared at Harry, "Rude fucking bastard," he muttered while Blaise snorted in amusement.

Harry smirked and said, "Okay, Daphne – you asked for an army to get your sister back; this is it."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "Our army consists of the Dark Lord's right-hand man and _his_ little lap dog-"

"Hey!" Theo objected.

"An assassins son," Daphne said, looking at Blaise, "A banshee, a deaf guy and Draco Malfoy?"

"Well, look I hate to break it to you, but Astoria is a girl, she's the youngest and therefore not the heir, so you don't get the A team, you get the B team," Harry said with a shrug, "But the B team has me leading it, so it's going to be fine."

"Mate, quit being cocky before she curses you – her fucking sister is missing," Theo pointed out.

"How come he gets to talk to you like that and get away with it?" Draco asked irritably, "If I spoke to you like that, you'd curse me."

Harry looked straight at Theo and replied, "He's different; he knows what he can and can't get away with."

Theo apologised wordlessly, and Harry turned back to Daphne, "So Neville is the only one who can get past the wards because he's a Longbottom."

He turned to Neville and signed, " _How are you going to get us in?"_

Neville signed back, and Harry translated, "He says he'll get us into the grounds, but from there it will be booby-trap after booby-trap. He says his grandmother is nothing if not methodical."

Daphne smirked, "Good thing I want to be a Curse Breaker then, isn't it?"

Harry looked her in the eye, "Yes, that will be incredibly useful. So look, I don't like plans," he signed to Neville as he spoke, "Every time I make a plan, it all falls to shit so this time let's just go with it. Neville gets us in, we get Astoria, and if we need to fight our way out, we do."

"That's a terrible plan," Draco said.

"He just said it wasn't a plan, idiot," Blaise muttered.

"Thank you, Blaise," Harry said, "At least someone was listening to me."

Ginny had been remarkably quiet throughout the conversation, but at that point, she turned to Neville and signed, " _Where do you think Astoria will be ?"_

Neville signed back, and Harry nodded, "Neville reckons Astoria will be in the only part of the house that isn't completely ruined – the oldest section that houses the drawing-room."

"Alright," Theo said, looking around the room, "Then are we ready to head out on Harry's plan-not-plan?"

They all nodded, albeit some reluctantly.

"Plans are overrated," Lily agreed, tucking her wand behind her ear, "There are always too many unknown variables. We will deal with the situations as they arise and with any luck, all of us come back alive and in one piece."

Harry nodded his agreement, "If things go sour and we need to call back-up, don't press your dark mark. I have a feeling that the Dark Lord wants me to handle this one on my own so I'll send a Patronus out to a few allies if need be."

His words were met with nods from the Death Eater contingent of the group.

"Let's move out," Harry said, signing to Neville at the same time, " _It's go time."_

* * *

It was remarkably easy for Neville to get them 'in the front door'. All he had to do was walk through the wards, holding onto their arms, one at a time until everyone was within the grounds of Longbottom House. It was set in a wide area of grassland, called Longbottom Grove. Neville was a northerner. Unlike the rolling hills of Wiltshire or Hampshire that surrounded Malfoy and Rosier Manor, Longbottom House was surrounded by craggy hills in the rainy Lake District.

It was clear that it had once been an imposing fortress – but it had all rotted away being as exposed as it was out here. All that remained of the medieval castle come country house, was the central tower – a circular stone building that looked fairly impenetrable.

Neville tapped Harry on the shoulder to get him to turn around, " _It looks bad, but there is a much more subtle entry door at the back."_

Harry was a-okay with a plan that didn't involve trying to tear down a drawbridge, so he let Neville lead them around the back of the fortress to an ordinary wooden door that swung open the moment Neville placed his hand on it.

The corridor within was empty, and after casting a basic diagnostic charm, Harry stepped forward to enter, but before he could, Daphne grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. He turned to her and frowned, but she just shook her head and cast a more complex diagnostic charm which showed four purple spots – one on the door and three in the corridor up ahead.

"What are those?" Ginny whispered.

"Curses," Harry and Daphne replied at the same time.

"That's a cursed barrier," Daphne said, motioning to the one in the doorway, "Designed to disintegrate anyone who walks through it."

"What about the ones inside?" Harry asked.

Daphne cocked her head to get a better look, "There's a death curse, the sort that rapidly ages you until your bones turn to dust."

Harry made a face, "Neville's gran is a right bitch – is that an entrail expelling curse?"

Daphne nodded, "Yes, and the last one seems to be another disintegration curse," she turned to Neville and signed, " _Is that the door to the drawing-room at the end of the hall?"_

Neville was surprised but signed back, " _Yes."_

Harry smiled slightly, "You sign?"

"My mother is deaf," Daphne replied, without looking away from the corridor full of curses, "She lost her hearing in the same incident that killed her sister when Theo and I were babies."

Harry frowned, then remembered that Daphne and Theo were cousins, "So you understood everything we said back there in the strategy meeting?"

"Yes," Daphne replied, "But is this really the time for you to marvel at my ability to sign? There are four curses to break through between Astoria and us."

Harry aimed his wand at the first curse and closed his eyes, focusing on his magical core as Gus and Dolohov had taught him. When he opened his eyes and cast, " _Finite Incantatem!"_ he was so focused that the disintegration barrier burst into white flames and disappeared.

Daphne tried to hide her impressed expression, but Harry saw it all the same. He cast the same spell on the disintegration barrier in the drawing-room and on the entrail-expelling curse. However, the last one was home-made and therefore, more difficult to penetrate. Daphne did work out that it was a single-use curse though which made the solution relatively simple.

Harry summoned a creature from the woods nearby and threw it at the curse; it hit the purple barrier and aged in seconds.

Ginny made a face, "Gross."

"Dark magic tends to be," Daphne said darkly, taking a cautious step into the building. When nothing happened, Harry followed her in and together they walked up the corridor into the drawing-room.

Astoria was at the centre of the room – magically bound to an old wooden chair, with a few scrapes and bruises on her face, legs and arms. Standing behind her, looking as imposing as ever, was Augusta Longbottom.

Neville shook his head in disbelief, "How could you do this?" he asked.

"Oh, you _do_ speak," Augusta said disdainfully, "I had heard this foul _creature_ deafened you."

"She did, by accident," Harry said, taking a step forward, "But that just took away his hearing, not his ability to speak. A former Ravenclaw ought to be able to work that out, surely?"

Augusta's eyes flashed angrily, "How dare you show your face in here? You and your band of murdering friends!"

Harry smirked, his wand focused on Augusta's chest, "I hate to break it to you Augusta, but take a good, hard look at this little crew – your grandson is the exception, not the rule."

"No," Augusta said stubbornly, "I refuse to believe that Neville would turn to the people who tortured his parents!" she hissed.

"He hasn't, yet," Harry agreed, "But he is working with us _against_ you because you think it's okay to torture a 15-year-old girl who has done nothing wrong."

Augusta scoffed and held her wand to Astoria's throat, "Nothing wrong, you say? She is the daughter of Cygnus Greengrass - the one person who could help us defeat scum like you if he wasn't such a coward!"

Harry laughed humourlessly, "So this is blackmail? Kidnap Astoria and blackmail her father into helping you set up a trade blockade, to stop us? You are so desperate; you know you're losing, don't you?"

Augusta dug the wand into Astoria's throat further, and Astoria whimpered in fear.

Daphne stepped forward and stood by Harry's side, "There is, of course, one flaw in your plan. I don't suppose someone as ignorant as you would know that my family motto is 'Family First' and I take that _very_ seriously."

Daphne conjured up ice like Harry had never seen before with a flick of her wand and an incantation in a foreign tongue. It spread in the same way that fiendfyre did, covering every surface, creeping up the legs of the chair that Astoria was bound to and forcing Augusta to let go and step back, to stop herself from being encompassed in the ice.

She stumbled but caught herself then cast a powerful blasting curse across the room, causing the group to scatter. Daphne lunged forward and freed Astoria in the chaos, holding her sister close to her side as a skirmish began.

Augusta threw up a barrier, keeping the majority of the group away from her. They immediately began to bombard it so Harry knew that it wouldn't last for long, but for the moment it left only himself, Ginny and Neville on the same side as Augusta.

The twisted old woman pointed her wand at Neville and screamed that he was a disgrace. A curse began to form on her lips, and Harry and Ginny locked eyes.

Harry gave the nod, knowing precisely what Ginny wanted him to do.

He cried, " _Protego!"_ just as the fire in her eyes grew, and her hands began to glow.

Behind the powerful sound-proof barrier, he and Neville couldn't hear a thing. Still, they could see Ginny open her eyes – amber eyes that shone brightly and were most definitely not Ginny's. Aideen had taken control, she opened her mouth and screamed with all her might, her eyes focused on Augusta – they saw the wave of sound carry across the room, they saw Augusta fall to her knees, grabbing her ears as the sound went through her.

But Ginny didn't stop there as she had with Neville because Ginny wasn't in control anymore, Aideen was. She wasn't green; she wasn't new to this. She knew how to channel her power and channel it she did – right until the sound blew Augusta's head off.

Neville's eyes were wide – partially with horror and somewhat with fear. Harry, personally, didn't feel at all alarmed, but he did feel impressed. It seemed that Aideen was just as protective, just as fierce as Ginny Weasley was.

Harry dropped the barrier, and Ginny rushed to Neville, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, still in shock at what he had witnessed. When she drew back, she signed, " _I'm sorry."_

Neville just nodded, and Harry patted his shoulder, " _Let's go."_

Ginny grabbed Neville's hand and dragged him out of the drawing-room, back into the corridor. They exited the same way that they had come in, but Augusta's death had triggered some sort of alarm because they weren't met with the empty grounds that they had left.

Instead, they were ambushed by the militant light- Molly, Kingsley, several Aurors who Harry vaguely recognised and then the kicker, "Ron."

Ron glared at Harry, "Thought I'd join you on the dark side, did you?"

Harry scoffed, "I don't fucking want you, mate," he said as they were all thrust into duels. He wanted to duel Ron, but Kingsley was the most powerful dueller in their little pack, and Harry knew that none of the others would be able to take him on, he tagged Draco in on his duel with Ron and sent a quick Patronus before throwing himself into a duel with Kingsley.

* * *

**Meanwhile at the Burrow…**

"Dad, I don't know why you thought this was a good idea."

Arthur fixed his eldest son with a stern look, "Because we need to learn how to be a family again, Bill."

"A family?" Bill asked in disbelief, "Look at us! We're in pieces!"

Charlie gripped his brother's shoulder and looked him in the eye, "Dad's right, Bill. Mum tried her best to destroy this family, but if we let her, then she's won, and I won't stand for that."

"Neither will I," Arthur said, "So please, give your brothers the benefit of the doubt."

Bill sighed and turned to the backdoor as it swung open. Three people walked into the kitchen – Fred and George looked much the same as they always had bar a few new scars on their faces. But Hermione looked healthier than she had done before, gone was the pale pallor of her skin from spending too much time in the library, she looked radiant and more confident than ever.

The moment Fred saw his brothers, he tensed up, "You didn't say they would be here, Dad."

"See?" Bill exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "What did I tell you?"

"They are your _brothers_ , Fred," Arthur said.

Fred opened his mouth to argue further, but before he could, Hermione walked past the twins to wrap her arms around Bill.

Fred and George both stepped forward impulsively, both of their bodies tensing when the younger woman embraced their brother. Hermione ignored their behaviour and let go of Bill, only to pull Charlie into a hug.

"Hermione!" Fred barked, "They are Death Eaters."

Hermione scoffed and turned to the boys, "And? Your father is one of the most docile men I have ever met, and he is drinking coffee with them. What do you think they are going to do? Kill us on the spot?"

Fred gave her a warning look and grabbed her hand, "You shouldn't have been so impulsive."

Hermione let him pull her to his side, but she glared at him for it.

Charlie watched the exchange with interest, one of his eyebrows quirking up when George stepped forward to stand as close to Hermione as Fred was.

"Oh," Charlie remarked, "Wow…I did _not_ see that coming. Did you, Bill?"

Bill shook his head while Arthur looked rather clueless.

"When did you form a pack?" Charlie asked.

"Forget pack, it's a triad," Bill added.

Hermione fixed him with a stern look, "And why can't it be both?" she asked rhetorically.

Bill smiled slightly, "How long did Fred last by himself then?"

"I've been a werewolf since his first moon," George admitted, "And I told him to bite me, there was no way I was letting him deal with alone."

"And you keep them in check," Charlie said, looking at Hermione, "You're not a wolf, your scent is different, but you're still a part of their pack."

Hermione didn't correct him; she just changed the subject, "I was under the impression that we were here to discuss Ginny's situation.

"We are," Charlie agreed.

"But congratulations, all the same," Bill said, nudging his head towards the trio.

Hermione smiled, but then again, she had always gotten on better with Bill than she had with Charlie, "And to you. How is Fleur?"

"She's fine, a bit fed up of being holed up in Malfoy Manor treating Death Eaters for minor ailments, but it keeps her busy," Bill said, an amused smile on his lips, "The babies are fine too, Narcissa checks Fleur over regularly."

Hermione didn't scoff like Fred had, or shake her head like George. She just smiled and said, "Good. Arthur, how is Ginny?"

"She is doing better now that she has her Aunt Beth to guide her, but from what Bill has told me, I am still worried about her," Arthur admitted.

Hermione frowned, "I didn't know you had an Aunt Beth?" she said to the boys.

Fred and George looked at each other, "Neither did we," they echoed.

"She's your mums younger sister," Arthur explained, "I doubt you would remember her. You were only three years old when your uncles were killed. Beth found their bodies and then disappeared, Molly told me that she had died, but as I recently discovered, the traumatic event made her unleash the banshee. She killed four Death Eaters with her scream then ran away."

George's eyes widened, "Hang on a minute, are you saying this banshee thing is in the blood?"

"Unfortunately, I am," Arthur admitted, "It is a blood curse, in the Prewett line. It will only manifest in women, but men can be carriers. As I recently discovered, your mother is cursed with it too."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Fred fumed, "She was all for kicking me out when I got bitten when she's as much of a half-breed as I am!"

Arthur sighed, "She had a brother, he was called Isaac."

Bill's eyes widened with realisation.

"He was killed by a werewolf when he was five years old," Arthur finished, "Your mother was ten, she remembers it well. Her mother fell apart and she spent a great deal of her final year before going to Hogwarts looking after her infant sister, your Aunt Beth."

"And she never told us about that," Charlie said in disbelief, "She talked about Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian all the time, but she didn't think the rest of it was important?"

"It wasn't easy for her to talk about it," Arthur said, "And I am not trying to defend her, but Fred…when she found out that you were a werewolf, she was in denial about everything, especially about the banshee inside of her. She thought if she pushed it down and pretended it wasn't there, it would go away but as I have recently discovered, that just makes the banshee angry, and it can lead to insanity."

"Well, she's certainly insane," George muttered.

"Enough," Hermione snapped, "Don't you see? This doesn't just affect Ginny; it affects this entire family. If it's in the Prewett bloodline then it's in your blood too, it will be in your children's blood."

She looked specifically at Bill.

He nodded, "We don't know for sure, but we think Fleur's veela blood might be enough to overpower the curse in the Prewett bloodline, but it will definitely affect you three."

Hermione laughed humourlessly, "No, it won't. Antonin Dolohov made sure of that when he gave me this a couple of years ago."

She lifted her shirt and showed them the angry pink scar that stretched across her stomach.

Charlie sighed, "Shit, Hermione, I'm sorry."

Bill nodded his agreement and Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why do people say sorry for something that could never have been in their control? It's as stupid as it is irritating."

Fred could clearly tell that her rant was charged with emotion rather than anger. He took her hand wordlessly and asked, "Why did you call us here then, Dad?"

Arthur sighed, "Because, we need to put this family back together if we can."

Fred looked sceptical, but Hermione spoke before he could, "Of course we can. As much as these two act like they don't – they care about this family too. You seem to forget Arthur, that you called us here on the full moon. They are more hormonal and grumpy than usual even having had their wolfsbane, but then again the moon due to appear in the next few hours."

Arthur looked like he wanted to kick himself, "I'm sorry, how could I forget that?"

"You haven't had werewolf sons for that long, Dad," George joked, "I'm sure we can give you a free pass."

Hermione gave him a stern look, "That isn't funny, George."

"It was a little bit funny," Fred murmured.

One look shut Fred down too, and Bill raised an eyebrow, "Impressive. Did you have dogs when you were a kid?"

Fred snorted, and George rolled his eyes at Bill's attempt at a joke.

Hermione just smiled slightly, "As I was saying, your mother is trying to split this family apart and I for one, will not let her. The only way we are going to get through any of this is together-"

She was interrupted by a colossal Basilisk bursting into the room. It made all of them draw their wands - all but Bill, who immediately recognised it for what it was. Surely enough, it opened its mouth and spoke with Harry's voice,

" _I need your help. We're at Longbottom House, and there's a battle. Ginny went banshee on Augusta."_

It disappeared, and Bill moved to the door.

"You're just going to go?" Hermione asked in disbelief, "To him?"

Bill turned around, noticing that Charlie was on his heels, "He's the Dark Lords favourite and the Dark Lord is our master so yes, Hermione – we are just going to go."

"We don't have another choice that doesn't involve certain death," Charlie added sarcastically.

"If you're going then we're coming with you," Fred said decisively.

"Debate that amongst yourselves, we're going now," Bill said, grabbing Charlie and darting out of the house.

"Really, Fred?" Hermione asked sharply.

"You heard the Patronus," Fred continued, "Ginny went banshee. That means there's a battle and Ginny's in the middle of it."

"We don't need to remind you what happened the last time there was a battle that Ginny was involved in," George added.

Hermione scoffed, "You don't need to remind me of anything that happened in that battle. I remember it clearly because _I_ was the one who was cursed and lost my ability to have children!"

Fred's eyes softened, "I know, Mione, and we didn't mean to demean you but-"

"But you did," Hermione said, her temper flaring up, "Ginny is a banshee, she probably killed Augusta Longbottom so I think it's fair to say that she can protect herself. However, if she loses it again, she could kill innocent people, so yes, we probably do have to go too."

Arthur sighed, "I can't go. There's a fair chance that your mother is there and I can't…I just can't bring myself to fight her. I'll stay here and if anyone needs healing, send them here, and I'll keep them safe."

Fred gave his dad a nod and looked at Hermione, "Stick to the usual duelling strategy when we get there, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I will," Hermione promised.

* * *

"Shit," Theo muttered, ending up duelling back to back with Harry, "We're going to die."

Harry threw a violent curse at Kingsley and murmured, "Come on, I don't want to hear that negative attitude from you, Theo. You're usually such a ray of sunshine."

Theo snorted and cast a killing curse towards Savage – the Auror he was duelling – but it missed, "Yay! We're going to die! Woo!"

Harry bit back a laugh and attempted to hit Kingsley with a particularly nasty home-made heart-stopping curse of Gus's invention.

"If we do die," Theo said, throwing a hex at Savage, "I want to thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for, and we're not going to die," Harry said, pulling them both down to dodge an unshieldable curse that another Auror had thrown at them. Savage threw a curse Theo's way which made him jump out of the way, pushing Harry in the other direction as he did so.

Harry felt a small surge of panic – duelling back to back, he could protect Theo, but with him getting pulled in the other direction, there was nothing that Harry could do if Theo's duel with Savage went sour.

"All the same," Theo said from underneath his shield charm, "I just figured you should know that these last couple of months with you, that's the happiest I've been in a long time."

Harry shot Theo an amused grin then spun around to knock Savage back as he tried to curse Theo, "Yeah man, I get it. Now, quit professing your love for me and focus on your duel."

With a mock salute, Theo turned his back on Harry to do just that, and Harry threw himself back into his duel with Kingsley, wondering how he could defeat the older, far more experienced duellist.

Just as that thought was flitting through his head, a loud crackling sound alerted them to the fact the wards had been brought down. Harry knew that meant that Bill had arrived, and he wasn't surprised to see Charlie with him, but he was surprised to see the twins and Hermione in tow.

He supposed Ron would be surprised too if he was paying attention. He was too busy duelling Draco at the moment and Draco, for all the talk he talked, really seemed to be struggling against Ron.

Another crack alerted them to the fact the rest of their reinforcements had arrived. Fitz strode forward and waded into the duel that Daphne was locked in with Dawlish, "Good warm-up, Greengrass but don't worry; the big boys have arrived now."

Beth rolled her eyes and threw a curse at the Auror Proudfoot, who Blaise was duelling, "Don't be such a condescending arse, Fitzroy," she drawled.

Being one of the more powerful amongst them, Lily had ended up duelling Molly, which Harry had thought was a difficult match until he overheard a snippet of Lily's conversation with the older woman.

Molly had narrowly dodged Lily's Sectumsempra curse when she cried, "Don't you have any mercy? I am a mother!"

Lily had laughed humourlessly, "And? I killed my own mother, so what do you think I could do to you?"

Molly's eyes flashed with fear, and Lily smirked because she spotted the Weasley contingent, "Besides, look at your children – almost all of them are fighting on the opposite side from you. What does that tell you about your parenting skills?"

It was true – Ron was fighting with her, but Bill and Charlie were staunchly on the 'dark' side. The twins and Hermione seemed ambivalent, not sure who they wanted to fight for. They had avoided the battle and headed over to Ginny and Neville, who were shielding Astoria from the violence.

Reyna had arrived with Beth and Fitz, which was a relief because as good as Lily was, she couldn't fend Molly off by herself. The older girl tagged herself into Lily's duel with a smirk, "Hey little raven, long time no seen."

Lily snorted, "Not the ideal time for a catch-up, is it Reyna?" she asked, throwing a cutting curse at Molly.

Reyna cast another charm on the curse as it flew threw the air, improving its accuracy and strength which made it unshieldable. It sliced Molly's arm, and she cried out in pain.

"Thanks for having my back," Lily had called to Reyna over the noise of the battle.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that back-up was here, he figured they stood a better chance. Fitz had taken over Daphne's duel with Dawlish, and by his side, Beth duelled Proudfoot. This left Daphne free to take on Lavender, who was losing spectacularly and Blaise had stepped in to help Theo in his duel against Savage. Bill was duelling another Auror who Harry had heard being called 'Wolfe' and Charlie was duelling the final Auror, who he had called 'Cauldwell'.

Harry lost concentration for a brief moment, he celebrated victory too soon and then it happened – the flash of red, the cry of pain, the thud of a body hitting the ground.

Harry spun around and saw it all happen in slow-motion. Ron cast a spell over Draco's shoulder, hitting Theo square in the back as he duelled Savage. The curse gouged out a deep wound, Theo's eyes widened, and he fell to the ground, face first.

Harry didn't care about the fact he had turned his back on Kingsley, and the older man was noble enough to stop the fight when his opponent turned his back. Blaise acted quickly and stunned Savage before he could curse Harry while he was distracted.

But Harry was oblivious to all of that. His heart was beating wildly as he flipped Theo over, his blood soaking the marshy ground. Theo's eyes were open, but unseeing – staring endlessly into the night sky.

With a cry that didn't sound entirely human, Harry got to his feet – his eyes burning with a fire so bright that the irises almost changed colour.

"You fucking coward!" He screamed at Ron, "You cursed him in the back, you _fucking_ coward!"

Harry threw out his right hand, focusing his wand on the militant light faction. He then splayed his left hand and held it towards his allies. Simultaneously, a powerful shield protected them while a blast of fiery magic pulsed out of Harry, pushing back all members of the militant light, burning them and knocking them unconscious in the process.

Harry then dropped the shield and stepped forward, levitating Ron's body and throwing it against a tree trunk. Although burnt and in pain, he bound him there - Ron was still alive, but Harry wasn't going to let him live for long.

With a slash of his wand, he slit Ron's throat, just enough that he would slowly bleed out, not enough to instantly kill him. Ron gagged and coughed, blood spilling out of the corners of his mouth.

"That's for Theo, you fucking coward!" Harry hissed. In his rage he threw up an invisible barrier, separating Ron from his allies so that if any of them did wake up in time to save him, they would have to tear down the metaphorical wall first.

Harry spun around and drew a fiery apparition circle around himself and his allies then he punched the ground with so much force it was a miracle he didn't break something. The motion sent a wave shuddering across the land. The last thing Harry heard before he and his allies were whipped away to Malfoy Manor was a rumble as what was left of Longbottom House began to fall in the localised earthquake that Harry had just created.

There was a stunned silence from the likes of Daphne who had known Harry was powerful, but at the same time, had never seen _anyone_ perform magic like that _while_ holding up a shield charm.

He had made it all look effortless, but in reality, Harry was exhausted. He would tell himself later that it was exhaustion that had made him fall to his knees and rest his head on Theo's chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat that he knew was gone.

Fred, George and Hermione were silent, wondering why they had been spared from the same fate as the militant light. Hermione looked around and had a good idea of where they were and what that meant, she assumed they would be taken prisoner, but that wasn't Harry's intention.

"There's the gate," Harry said, without rising from his knees, he pointed to it, "Leave before the Dark Lord gets here, or Lucius Malfoy comes out, and you will be spared any retribution. Nobody will pressure you into joining us, and you can carry on running and pretending that none of this is happening."

Fred and George looked like they wanted to take that offer, but Hermione didn't. She strode forward and pulled Harry to his feet, "You do not get to make that choice, or any choice, for us! Not after what you've done, what you've put me through!"

Harry glared at her, "Leave now, and you can run back to Longbottom House and try to spare poor little Ronnikons!"

Hermione slapped him hard, bringing Harry back to reality, "I don't want to save Ron, I don't give a shit about Ron!"

This caught Harry's attention; he grabbed her arm to steady himself and looked her in the eye.

"If you had taken one minute to speak to me, you would know that, but you didn't!" Hermione snapped, "You just assumed that I was on his side, that I had brewed a love potion for Ginny and do you know what? That hurt, Harry, that bloody hurt! Because I was the one person who stood by you, through the Triwizard Tournament, through all of the shit in fifth year, through your obsession with Malfoy and the Death Eaters in sixth year, I stood by you!"

Harry swallowed, "Hermione-"

"And I might have stood by you through this too, had you given me a choice," Hermione said, her eyes burning into his, "But you didn't."

"Hermione, please," Harry said, it wasn't often he resorted to begging but this was Hermione and _fuck,_ he missed her. He lowered his voice, "I pretend not to feel anything, I pretend I don't care, but I do, I wish I didn't, but I do, and Theo was…" he tried his hardest not to look at the body on the ground, "…please stay."

Hermione knew that look; she knew that the pain in his eyes was real. She gave him a small nod, "Not here – not anywhere with Malfoys," she cast a disdainful look over Draco, "But I will be in touch, I promise."

Harry looked into her eyes, drank in the mercy and the hope that he saw there. He nodded and pulled her into a hug, breathing in her familiar scent and enjoying the mass of hair that threatened to choke him, rather than pulling away from it.

"I have something that I really need to tell you," Harry murmured against her hair, "So don't go back on that promise."

Hermione pulled back, "I won't," she assured him, glancing up at the dark sky as the thick clouds began to shift, "Come on boys, let's get out of here before that moon comes out."

Fred looked up and nodded, gripping his brother's elbow, "Come on, Georgie."

Draco looked at Harry in disbelief as the trio headed for the gate, "You're just going to let them go?"

"Yes, Draco, I'm just going to let them go," Harry snapped, "Because those two are both werewolves and in about ten minutes, the moon is going to break through those clouds!"

"And? We could have killed them," Draco barked.

"No, you couldn't have," Bill said coolly, "When I made my deal and took the Dark Mark, I had the Dark Lord swear not to hurt Fred or George."

"You didn't give a crap about me though, did you?" Ginny asked irritably.

"He said that you should be given a chance actually," Harry said, he sounded as tired as he looked, "And as you were under enchantments, he turned out to be right."

"But Ron deserved to bleed out and choke on his own blood?" Ginny asked, glaring at Harry.

"Yes, Ginny," Harry said hotly, "In fact, he deserved worse!"

"Enough!" Daphne snapped, stepping in-between them, "If we resort to infighting, then we are no better than the light!"

Her words were poignant, and as such, they brought silence.

Harry swallowed and nodded, "Daphne, you had better take Astoria home. Your parents will be worried sick about her."

Daphne gave him a nod, and stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you and…I'm sorry for what you had to lose to save her."

Harry would have sighed if he had the energy, but he didn't. Instead, he just looked helplessly down at Theo as Daphne shepherded her sister out of the garden.

"You need to call him, Harry," Bill's voice was saying, but it seemed so far away.

"He'll know about the battle soon enough," Another voice, Harry thought it was Fitz's said.

Why did they all sound like they were miles away? Harry wondered as his world went black, and suddenly, fell silent.

*** ~ TBC ~ ***


	32. Hiding the Shock & The Chill in My Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Army of the Phoenix and the Order of the Phoenix deal with the repercussions of the battle…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song title comes from the song:  
> Hold On by Chord Overstreet.
> 
> P.S: Sorry about killing Theo! I had to do it, for the plot, but it was so hard to do!!

** Meanwhile at… **

** Hogwarts Castle, Scotland **

“Do you think we did the right thing?”

Seamus glanced around the empty dungeon corridors, “We didn’t get here in time, so no, I don’t think we did.”

They had thought about defecting when the news came in that Astoria Greengrass had been kidnapped.

The boys had made their decision after overhearing a floo call between Augusta Longbottom and Molly Weasley. All that they could hear in the background were the screams of a 15-year-old girl in agony, and they knew they couldn’t stay.

The two boys had slipped out of the castle and ran far enough away from the wards to apparate safely. Then, to avoid being tracked, they had apparated to Hogwarts in short, erratic leaps.

They intended to grab Harry and tell him everything, giving him the best possible chance when he walked into the trap that the Army of the Phoenix had left for him. But they had gotten back to the castle too late; Harry and his band of Death Eaters and supporters had already left.

“Maybe he’ll forgive us when he gets back,” Dean said optimistically.

Seamus looked at Dean like he was mad, “Yeah, I doubt that.”

“What do we do then?” Dean asked, “Do we leave again? Try to find what’s left of the Order and join up with them?”

Seamus shook his head, “What’s the point, Dean? We’ve lost.”

Dean grabbed Seamus’s hand and glanced around the corridor. When he saw that it was empty, he pushed his best friend back into a secret passageway. Seamus’s back hit the wall, and Dean kissed him hard; the contact calmed Seamus’s nerves which had been Dean’s intention.

Seamus pulled his best friend closer desperately and deepened the kiss, forgetting entirely about the war raging outside for one blissful minute.

Dean broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Seamus’s, “We haven’t lost, and as long as we’re in this together, I won’t lose hope. Let’s get out of here. Ginny showed me a secret passageway that leads to Hogsmeade; we can use that.”

“Then what?” Seamus asked, his voice a little breathy.

“Then we find the Order, and we fight,” Dean said firmly, “We fight for what’s right, for what we believe in.”

His little speech had impassioned Seamus, and if he was honest, he was pretty sure he’d go wherever Dean went anyway.

With a nod, he said, “Let’s go before they get back.”

* * *

** Prewett Castle, Wales ~ The Army of the Phoenix’s HQ **

The air in the war room was deathly still and quiet. They could hear the smallest creak of a floorboard or scurrying of a mouse beneath their feet. Nobody dared to speak, and nobody knew what to say to break the tension – it was thick in the air, like a fog that had clouded over everything.

In the hall behind the small band of rebels lay the bodies of those they had lost. Someone had draped blankets over them to preserve their modesty, but Molly had been unable to tear herself away from her son's body for quite a few hours.

As soon as she had, she had come to the war room to stare down at the map, and she had not moved since. The blow they had suffered today had been huge – in what was supposed to have been an ambush, a group of junior Death Eaters and school children had outflanked them. In other less tragic circumstances, it would have been embarrassing.

As the evening wore on, more members of the rebellion joined Molly in the war room. The Auror faction did so once they had patched each other up and said farewell to their fallen brother, Sorenson Cauldwell.

Percy had been by his mother’s side for quite some time, unable or unwilling to say anything that might help her process her grief.

Kingsley, Maggie and Caroline were the last to join them.

Caroline sank onto a moth-eaten chair by the fire and, for once, did not object when Eddie placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze for good measure. She let her head fall into her hands, a symbol of pure defeat.

Kingsley and Maggie stood side by side – matching expressions of doom and dread on their faces. Kingsley looked down at the map, at the red dots that symbolised snatcher camps, at the two moving orange dots that were their best estimation of the dragon riders commonly used routes.

With a sigh, Kingsley placed his wand against Prewett Castle. The yellow dot there flickered, and he shook his head.

Everyone was thinking the same thing. Green dots were scattered across the map; they represented homes owned or held by traditionalist families. There were a few purple dots in the south of England that signified ruined or un-lived in homes and a tiny smattering of blue dots, representing the families who had vowed to remain neutral.

A mere six dots represented the only homes of families who were openly fighting for the light now, one of which was Prewett Castle, their headquarters.

A second yellow dot hovered over Rose Lodge, the home of the Perks family. Gareth, the head of the family, had lost his wife Dorcas [Meadowes] in the first wizarding war and had vowed to remain liberal from that day forward. However, they fought with the Order due to their opinion on such a militant stance.

The third yellow dot hung above Shacklebolt Mill, the home of Kingsley, Maggie and their family.

The fourth yellow dot floated over The Willows, the Wood family home.

A fifth yellow dot hovered above Greengrove House, the home of Andromeda and Ted Tonks, but like the Perks, they fought with the Order.

Kingsley looked at the last dot; it hovered over Castle Jones in north wales. The Jones family were helping them, funding them, but they had not yet actively joined them.

Kingsley’s shoulders were slumped; he looked utterly defeated. By his side, Maggie looked just as tired with black bags beneath her bloodshot eyes. The remaining Aurors who were serving them stood behind Kingsley like loyal soldiers.

And Molly – she stood, looking down at the map. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles were pure white. Her entire body shook, but nobody could see her face.

Kingsley sighed and took off his badges – the Order of the Phoenix one and his Auror one. He dropped them onto the metal table, where they made a loud noise that echoed around the otherwise silent room.

“We have lost,” He declared.

“That’s not good enough,” Molly said, her voice low and dangerous, “I can’t accept that.”

“It does not matter if you accept it or not; it is true,” Kingsley said, his voice quieter than usual.

Molly looked up, her eyes glowing amber. Her words echoed when she spoke like two people were talking at once – one person who sounded like Molly and one with a thick Irish accent.

“WE WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!”

An invisible wind whipped Molly’s hair up, and before their very eyes, its colour changed to a much deeper shade of red. Her eyes glowed brighter than ever, and then she opened her mouth in the beginnings of a scream.

“Banshee!” Maggie cried.

Kingsley pushed his wife aside and yanked his wand out, uttering ancient words at high speed and thrusting his wand at Molly.

An orange light encased her, and she seemed to shift out of phase – it was like she was somewhere in-between a ghost and a real person.

Everyone froze in shock.

“I’ve shifted her into a different plane,” Kingsley said, the strain of holding the spell showing on his face, “Get out of here, all of you! Go to Castle Jones, Maggie, beg your brother for safe passage.”

The Aurors looked lost; they shared glances, unsure of what to do.

“Sir-” One of them began.

“That was an order, Lamb!” Kingsley ground out, “Go.”

Eddie led the way out of the war room towards the barbican with a nod to the rest of the men.

Percy looked at Caroline, “Caroline?”

“I’ll come in a minute, just go,” Caroline said, the same urgency in her voice that had been in Kingsley’s.

It compelled Percy to leave, which left Caroline and Maggie alone in the room with Kingsley.

Maggie looked Kingsley in the eye tearfully. She shook her head, “Kingsley-”

“Go, Maggie,” Kingsley said, his voice strained, “Go to your cousin's house and get the girls.”

“When you release the spell, she’ll shift back into this plane, and everything that happened when she was out of phase will come with her. You will get the full force of her scream in one go,” Maggie said, her voice catching in her throat.

“I know,” Kingsley said, his eyes on his wife’s.

“You can’t, Kingsley! It’s suicide,” Maggie cried.

“I have to,” Kingsley said, his eyes on hers, “And you know it – go.”

Maggie swallowed, tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Tell Piper and Kiera that I love them and that I am sorry,” Kingsley said, his eyes shifting to Caroline, “And Caroline, I love you.”

Caroline was crying too. She kissed Kingsley on the cheek, “I love you too. Thank you for being my Dad when you didn’t have to be.”

Maggie let out a choked sob and gently kissed Kingsley’s lips, “I love you, Kingsley. I love you so much.”

Kingsley looked at her, his deep brown eyes filling with unshed tears, “I love you too, Maggie.”

The amber force shield around Molly flickered, and Kingsley grimaced, “Go, now!”

Maggie grabbed Caroline’s hand, and together, they ran from the room, following the others out of the castle through the barbican.

Kingsley fell to his knees, he could feel how drained his magic was, and he knew that soon, the banshee would breakthrough, but he held it for as long as he could to give the others the best chance possible to get out.

With the last ounce of energy, both magical and physical, that Kingsley had, he carved a hole in the floor beneath Molly then dropped his wand. The shield around Molly dropped, and she shifted back into phase, just in time to fall through the floor into the bottomless Kelpie infested lake beneath the castle.

The moment the shield dropped, the full force of her scream filled the castle. The power of it threw Kingsley against the wall and killed him instantly.

* * *

**The Burrow, Devon**

Abandoned cups of coffee littered the kitchen table. Arthur stared at the family clock on the opposite wall – five of the hands pointed towards ‘Home’. Ginny’s hand was pointed towards ‘School’. Percy’s was pointing towards ‘Travelling’, and Molly and Ron’s had switched to ‘Mortal Peril’ not too long ago.

Hermione was the only one not sitting at the table. Instead, she was pacing the kitchen, an empty cup of coffee in her hands as she processed the events of the evening.

The clock ticked past midnight, and with a clatter, two hands fell from it. Everyone looked up, and a sob almost choked Arthur. Molly’s hand and Ron’s had dropped from the clock after spending hours in ‘Mortal Peril’.

Bill shook his head and looked down at the table, at his stone-cold, untouched coffee.

Charlie got to his feet and walked to the window, looking out at Sarris and Lennox, who were terrorising the chicken coup – Felix was trying his best to keep them away, but every so often, he would glance around and chuck a live chicken into one of the dragons' mouths. It also made Charlie smile.

“He was only a boy,” Arthur said quietly.

Hermione wasted no time defending Ron. She turned around with a fire in her eyes, “He cursed another boy in the back and killed him. I don’t know what he expected after that, Arthur. They may be Death Eaters, but they have a code of honour too. They have people that they care about.”

“You didn’t see the way Harry screamed when Ron killed that boy,” Bill agreed, his eyes dark, “He was someone Harry cared a hell of a lot about.”

“And you know that had the roles been reversed, had a Death Eater cursed one of us in the back, any of us would have retaliated with murder on our minds,” George confessed.

Fred nodded from his twin's side, putting his arm around his shoulder.

Arthur didn’t argue with any of them. He silently placed the fallen hands into a little container on the worktop and braced himself against the sink. They could tell he was crying from how his body shook, but at first, nobody moved to comfort him.

Charlie was the one to do so in the end. He turned around and crossed the kitchen, pulling his utterly defeated father into a tight hug.

“You may have lost one son, but you have five more who love you, Dad,” Charlie said quietly.

Hermione wasn’t so sure about that. She narrowed her eyes to the clock as Percy’s hand moved from ‘Travelling’ to ‘Mortal Peril’. Whatever he was doing, she had a bad feeling about it.

“We can’t stay much longer,” She said, directing her comment to the boys, “Let’s get cleaned up, grab some fresh clothes and get back on the move. We’re easy to track when we stay put.”

Fred and George nodded, getting to their feet simultaneously. The two boys left the room, and Hermione looked at Charlie over Arthur’s shoulder, “You’ll still have our back?”

“Always,” Charlie promised.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and kissed him on the cheek, “Take care of yourself, Charlie.”

“You too, Mione.”

She turned to Bill and smiled, drawing him in for a hug, “Give Fleur our love.”

“I will,” Bill promised, smiling sadly at her, “Keep them alive for us.”

“Of course,” Hermione promised, sweeping out of the room without another word.

* * *

**Castle Jones, North Wales**

It was a motley crew – gathered outside of the impenetrable fortress that was Castle Jones – Maggie held her two young daughters close to her. Piper and Kiera had tears running down their cheeks. Maggie had collected them from her cousin, Hestia’s, home and for added safety, she had persuaded Hestia to come back to the castle with her.

Caroline’s cheeks were stained red from her tears too, and in his usual vain efforts to comfort her, Eddie was rubbing his hand up and down her back despite her attempts to bat it away.

All that remained was Lavender, who was openly sobbing and a handful of Aurors. In one night, the dark side had decimated their army, and they had lost both of their leaders.

The drawbridge into the castle lowered, and they all dragged themselves in. They were muddy and dirty, wearing thick clothes in dire need of a wash after their stay in Prewett Castle's poverty.

A man who looked like Maggie’s brother watched them enter – he had the same aristocratic good looks that she did. His blonde hair was darker and shorter, but there was no mistaking the family resemblance.

Hestia was the odd one out – with her dirty blonde, braided hair, jeans and colourful cloak. She was born of noble blood, but she did not care whether people knew that or not.

“Matthias!”

A woman who looked remarkably like Maggie ran into the room – she was a little taller, and she was all made up in elegant robes, rather than the shabby old clothes that Maggie wore.

“Marietta,” Matthias said, bowing his head at her, “It seems that we are the new face of the rebellion.”

Maggie glared at him, “Now is not the time for your judgement, Matthias! My husband just sacrificed himself to get all of us out of Prewett Castle!”

Matthias swallowed but said nothing.

Marietta ran forward and hugged her sister. She murmured apologies and condolences, then wrapped her arms around Piper and Kiera, ushering them upstairs for hot cocoa before bed. If Maggie knew her sister, she expected that she would lace the cocoa with sleeping draughts to help the children deal with their trauma.

A man in the shadows shifted – he had shoulder-length brown hair and knowing eyes. His name was David, and he was the black sheep of the family, the Muggle-born that Marietta had married against their father's orders. Her father, Gethin Jones, had not disowned her, and although Matthias accepted David, he also made it abundantly clear that he was beneath them.

“I’m sorry, Magdalena,” Matthias said stiffly.

“Sorry enough to stop hiding in your castle and fight in this war?” Maggie fumed.

Hestia grabbed Maggie’s hand, “She’s right, Matt. You can’t sit on the side-lines anymore. We have all lost too much to this war.”

A deep chuckle came from the doorway into the library. An older man in his late 60’s with greying blonde hair stepped into the entrance hall, “Your cousin has indeed lost everything, her husband, her anchor. But you, Hestia?”

Hestia’s eyes darkened as she looked at the man.

“You lost your darling, Emmeline,” The man continued, “The girl you spent far too long having a hedonistic affair with.”

Hestia’s eyes flashed, “The woman I _loved_ , Father.”

“Griffin, now is not the time,” David cautioned.

Griffin laughed, “Since when did the Muggle-born get a say in the affairs of this family?”

“Since I married your niece and had a son with her,” David said, stepping into the room, “I have as much of a say as Kingsley did, but you don’t see it that way because of my blood status, so let me ask you, how does that make us any different from the people we are fighting?”

“We are different, David,” Hestia said, looking at the man. They got on well because they were the two family members who got shunned at every family gathering, “Some of us are ignorant and cruel, but most of us want an equal world, and that’s what separates us from them.”

David nodded and looked over at Matthias, “Will you fight, Matt?”

Matthias did not give a straight answer. Instead, he looked at Hestia, “Is this family united, Hestia?”

Hestia laughed humourlessly, “As united as it can be. I will remain here and fight alongside you, Matthias. But I will leave this castle if I continue to be treated like filth by _him_. I presume if he is here, his mistress and his favourite daughter are too?”

Matthias sighed, “Teagan and Gwenog are here, yes.”

“And I am not his mistress,” Another voice said. A woman with dark skin and thick, curly black hair, flecked with grey, glared at Hestia, “I have been his wife for 37 years.”

“His second wife,” Hestia said coolly, “But then again, he didn’t spend too long crying over my mothers grave before he married you, did he?”

“Enough!” Matthias snapped.

The sound echoed around the hall, and everyone fell silent.

Matthias glared at them all, “I would like to assure you all that I agree. There is no other choice but for us to formally join the lights war effort. This castle will be our new headquarters, but before we can even think about acting on this – you all need to get some sleep and then we must catch up on the events that have led us to this point.”

Maggie nodded stiffly and stalked from the room. Hestia sighed and jogged after her cousin.

Matthias looked at the remaining fighters, “I will show you all rooms. Caroline, my love, you remember where yours is?”

“Of course, Uncle Matt,” Caroline said quietly.

Eddie put his arm around her shoulder, “Caroline-”

“Don’t touch me!” Caroline snapped, pushing his arm off of her forcefully and stalking after her mother and aunt.

Nobody had noticed that, in the chaos, Percy had apparated away from Prewett Castle, but not to Castle Jones as the other rebels had.

* * *

** Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire ~ Lord Voldemort's HQ **

Percy stood in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. This was where Yaxley had led him when he told him he had information about the Army of the Phoenix and that he wanted to relay it to the Dark Lord directly.

His hands were clasped together, sweat making them clammy. He had been waiting here for quite a while by the time Lucius emerged from a side-room and said, “The Dark Lord will see you now.”

Percy swallowed and walked into a small lounge where Voldemort sat by the fire. His red eyes immediately focused on Percy, and the redheaded man breathed in sharply – his appearance was so snake-like, it was uncanny.

“Yaxley informed me that you had information,” Voldemort said, his voice high and cold.

Percy nodded, “Yes. I can tell you almost anything you want to know about the Army of the Phoenix. I spent over a month with them; I know who is fighting, where they are, and everything they know.”

Voldemort surveyed Percy silently for a moment, “And why should I trust you? You could be a spy; this could be an elaborate ploy to infiltrate my forces.”

Percy shook his head, “No, I went there to gather information and bring it to you.”

“And you honestly expect me to believe this?” Voldemort asked, “With no further proof?”

“I know you are a master Legilimens,” Percy confessed. He knelt before Voldemort, “So search my head. You will see that I went there before I spoke to you so that when Kingsley inevitably probed my mind, he would see no meetings with you or no evidence that my mind had been tampered with. I’m a strong enough Occlumens to conceal my thoughts from someone as powerful as Kingsley, but not my memories.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Percy but delved into his brain anyway. He flicked through his thoughts, saw the process he had come to after his meeting with Arthur Weasley just over a month ago.

Satisfied that Percy was telling the truth, Voldemort withdrew from his head.

“And what do you desire in light of your aid to our cause?” Voldemort asked.

The Dark Lord surveyed Percy closely, “In my experience, people do not delve undercover and betray their kin out of the goodness of their heart.”

“No,” Percy agreed, “Which is why I want a prestigious position within the ministry.”

“Hm,” Voldemort said, his hand on Nagini, who Percy had just realised was by his side, “Tell me what you know, and your new position will reflect how valuable your information is. That is if it does hold any true value to me at all.”

Percy told Voldemort everything – from how the army had been using Prewett Castle as a base but had not moved on to Castle Jones. To how Kingsley and Molly had been the leaders and that they had killed each other in one night. To how they were a pathetic band of rebels with no hope now.

Voldemort listened intently, and when Percy finished speaking, he looked into the fire for a long moment.

“The banshee fell to her death, you say?” Voldemort asked.

Percy nodded, “She fell several hundred feet into an underground kelpie infested lake. I doubt even she could survive that.”

“You would be surprised,” Voldemort said dryly, “There is a reason that the ancient texts state that only goblin made steel can defeat them.”

He clicked his fingers, and the door opened.

“Yes, my lord?” Lucius asked, popping his head in.

“Call for Felix Rosier, William and Charles Weasley, as a matter of urgency,” Voldemort ordered.

Lucius nodded and left the room to do so.

Percy frowned and looked at Voldemort questionably, “I believe your tale, Mr Weasley, but I am less than convinced of the banshees demise.”

Realisation flooded Percy’s face, and he nodded.

“You have, however, given me the news that the powerful Auror who the rest followed has perished, and I know now where the army’s current headquarters are,” Voldemort mused, “That is highly valuable information indeed. It does rather interest me that you were not in Slytherin house.”

“I was a hat stall,” Percy said, a small smirk coming to his face, “I knew the light would trust me. My father and I always argued, but my mother was the one who stuck up for me when my siblings bullied me. Everyone would expect me to lean towards her side. Kingsley searched my mind, but beyond that, they barely questioned me when I joined them.”

“You may prove to be a political asset,” Voldemort said, his lips quirking into a smirk, “I shall see that your transition to Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic goes smoothly.”

Percy’s eyes lit up with pride at this, and then the door opened.

“Percy?!” Two voices echoed.

Voldemort looked up at the elder Weasley brothers and Felix, “Indeed. Your younger brother has not only joined us. He has handed us the Army of the Phoenix on a silver platter. The only thing left for us to deal with is your mother.”

“Our mother?” Bill asked, “She’s dead.”

Charlie nodded, “We have an enchanted clock that tracks our whereabouts. When someone dies, the hand falls off, and last night, her hand fell off.”

“That may just mean that Molly Weasley is dead,” Felix piped in, “That the banshee won the battle and took control.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, “But that would mean…”

“A hybrid, witch-banshee,” Felix agreed, “A banshee in a witch’s body with access to her magic, but with no real idea how to use it.”

“She would have access to Mums memories though,” Bill said, “She’s been living in her head for years after all.”

“It would be fuzzy at first, but in time it would all become clear,” Charlie agreed, “Then we would have a banshee capable of performing magic.”

“Which cannot happen, for obvious reasons,” Voldemort drawled, “Deal with the situation. I do not believe even a kelpie could kill a banshee, so I require you to go to Prewett Castle and review the situation.”

Charlie nodded, “We’ll go right away.”

Bill turned to follow him, and so did Felix.

When the trio got to the corridor outside, Charlie gripped Felix by the wrist, “You’re not coming.”

Felix’s eyes flashed dangerously, “The hell I’m not. Do _you_ know anything about kelpies?”

“I know as much about magical creatures as you,” Charlie cautioned, moving closer to Felix.

Bill rolled his eyes at the display between the two men.

“You didn’t spend a year living among kelpies before you went off to work with dragons, Charlie,” Felix said, “That was me, so I’m coming with you.”

Charlie pushed off Felix irritably, “Fine,” he said, stalking down the corridor.

“You can’t keep trying to protect me forever,” Felix called after him.

“Just watch me,” Charlie muttered under his breath.

At the same time, Bill walked into line with Felix and said dryly, “Just watch him.”

* * *

**Prewett Castle, Wales ~ Former HQ of the Army of the Phoenix**

Prewett Castle had never been in good shape, but it was practically a ruin now. It looked like an earthquake had hit the castle, but they knew it was the effects of the banshee scream.

Bill broke past the enchantments easily with his Prewett blood. He blew away the odd curse that remained on the ruin to deter intruders.

Cautiously, the trio made their way across the barbican into the main hall of the castle. Blood was spattered across one of the walls, but there was no body.

“The army has been back to retrieve the bodies,” Bill noted, his eyes on the considerable blood spatter.

Charlie sighed and nodded, “Poor bastard didn’t stand a chance.”

The three of them reached a hole in the ground and looked down; all they could see was blackness.

“Any chance of discovering what happened without going down there?” Bill asked.

“None,” Felix replied. He looked around for an anchor then said, “ _Carpe Retractum!”_

A silver rope flew from his wand and anchored itself to one of the steel light fittings.

Charlie cast a cautious look over Felix as he tied the silver rope around his waist, “Into the deep,” he murmured, jumping into the hole and lowering himself down, keeping his feet on the wall as he did so.

Charlie and Bill watched cautiously, lighting up the hole as best as they could with their wands.

When Felix reached the bottom, he murmured, “ _Lumos.”_

The sight before him was hideous. The underground lake was dark red, stained with the blood of the six Kelpies that floated atop it. They were in their true form – that of a silvery-blue horse with fins. Usually, Kelpies were such beautiful creatures, but they looked like a feral creature had attacked them. They had been ripped open, their guts spilt, gaping wounds in their sides where organs and flesh had once been.

Felix tore his eyes away, biting back nausea that threatened him. He shone his wand around the underground cavern and saw a small tunnel carved by man rather than nature.

Armed with what he needed to know, Felix carefully used his feet to walk his way back up the hole to the great hall in Prewett Castle.

Charlie grabbed him and pulled him away from the hole the minute he was out, and Bill looked at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“She’s not dead,” Felix said, clearing his throat, “Your mother is, but the banshee isn’t. Six Kelpies, ripped open, their organs missing.”

Charlie’s eyes darkened.

“Fuck,” Bill cursed, kicking the war table over in his fury.

“There’s a small man-made tunnel down there, for drainage probably,” Felix added, “That’s how she got out.”

“How far do you think she could have gotten?” Bill asked, looking down at his watch; it was early morning.

“She’ll move faster than a human, but she’s not super quick like a vampire,” Felix mused.

“That doesn’t matter; she has access to magic,” Charlie reminded them, “And while she might not know how to use it skilfully yet, I imagine she’ll be capable of using it in emergencies.”

“Like for a short apparition jump to get away from the castle,” Felix said quietly.

Charlie nodded.

Bill let his head drop against the cold, stone wall.

“Fuck!”

* * *

**Castles Jones, Wales ~ The Army of the Phoenix's HQ**

The Army of the Phoenix held a mass funeral the evening after Kingsley’s death – they had extracted the remains of his body, along with that of Ron Weasley and Sorenson Cauldwell - the others who had died in the onslaught.

They lit three pyres in the large courtyard of Castle Jones. They glossed over many of the formalities because of the speed of the funeral and the fact there were multiple victims.

But as the sun set behind the castle, the remains of the Order drank wine or firewhiskey and watched the pyres burn.

Caroline had taken herself away from the others, and for once, Eddie had the sense not to follow her.

Maggie’s grief consumed her, and in her haste to comfort her two younger daughters, she didn’t notice Caroline’s absence, but Hestia did.

Her aunt sat down beside her and handed her a hipflask, “Try this; it’s much stronger.”

Caroline took a grateful swig then coughed.

Hestia chuckled, “Told you it was strong – it’s what's left of Emmy’s home-brewed batch.”

Caroline looked over at her aunt – she had always called Hestia her aunt, even though technically she was her great aunt. Hestia had a look on her face, somewhere between reminiscent and sad.

“Do you miss her?”

Hestia took a deep swig and nodded, her eyes on the ground, “Yes, Caroline, I miss her every single day. She was my soulmate. When I was with her, I felt whole and fulfilled, but when she was gone…when I knew I would never see her again? A hole opened up inside of me, and nothing can fill it.”

Caroline looked down – she knew that feeling. Her lost love hadn’t died, but Caroline knew she could never get it back. She swallowed and looked across the courtyard at the pyres.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aunt Hestia.”

“I know you can’t, pet,” Hestia said, grabbing Caroline’s hand.

Caroline looked into her aunt's sympathetic eyes.

“You’re not made for war,” Hestia said, gently stroking Caroline’s cheek, “You’re soft and caring – a lover, a Healer, not a fighter. This?” she motioned around, “This isn’t the life for you.”

Caroline cleared her throat and looked away from Hestia, “So you’ll just let me go? You won’t say anything to my mother?”

Hestia shook her head, “I’ll tell her you left of your own accord and that you’re okay, but I’m not going to stop you from leaving. You have a choice; nothing ties you to this life.”

“Neither are you,” Caroline said, sending her a sideways look, “You could come with me.”

Hestia sighed and looked out at the burning pyre, “No, love, I can’t. The only way I’m getting out of this war is if I go down fighting, like your step-dad. The Death Eaters killed Emmeline, and I won’t rest until I’ve killed as many of them as I can. This life? It’s all I know; it’s all I’ve known since I lost her.”

Caroline swallowed and got to her feet, “Thank you.”

Hestia squeezed Caroline’s hand then let go, kissing her niece on the cheek and murmuring, “Take care of yourself and stay hidden.”

With a final nod and glance back to the pyre that her mother was crying by, Caroline slipped past the castle’s defences.

* * *

** The Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire   
**

Hermione pulled her cloak closer, frowning as she heard something in the distance. Fred and George were inside the tent, making tea while Hermione kept watch.

“Boys,” She called, drawing them into the opening of the tent.

“Do you hear that?” Hermione asked.

Fred and George froze and listened closely. They could tune into their wolf-hearing even when it wasn’t a full moon.

George nodded, “Snatchers.”

“But Charlie always steers them away from us,” Fred pointed out.

“Which means someone other than us has drawn them here,” Hermione said, her hand tightening on her wand as she got to her feet.

The boys were hot on her heels, listening intently as their eyes scanned the forest ahead – their every sense was keener now, which made looking through the forest's dark gloom easier.

They saw a flash of light in the trees up ahead, the sort of bluey-white light emitted by a basic stunner.

In typical brash Hermione fashion, she ran into the woods towards it. Without a word, Fred and George followed her towards the flashes of lights and the shouts for help.

They ran through an invisible barrier that marked the edge of their enchantments. Then they saw the commotion in the clearing ahead – two snatchers had a tight grip on a girl who didn’t look much older than Hermione. Another snatcher had his wand on the girl's throat.

The sight made Hermione’s blood boil. With Fred and George flanking her, she walked into the clearing and sent a curse flying at his head. The snatcher dodged it and turned his wand on the trio, but they had formed their defensive duelling stance – the three of them in a back to back triangular position.

They sent three different spells out at the same time – Hermione’s hit a tree and set it alight – Fred and George’s combined in mid-air and uprooted the tree in a small, contained hurricane.

With a slash of Hermione’s wand, she brought the tree down on top of the snatcher.

Hermione then turned to the two snatchers who were holding the girl, “Would you like to take your chances or are you going to release that poor girl and run away like sensible little boys?” she asked.

The snatchers looked at each other, let go of the girl and bolted off into the trees.

The girl fell to her knees, breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fear.

“Hey,” Fred said, running forward to steady her, “It’s okay. We fight the snatchers to help people like you.”

George knelt in front of her, “Do you have a name?”

She nodded and pushed her hair back from her face, which was covered in cuts and mud, “Caroline.”

“Alright, Caroline, I’m George,” He said with a supportive smile, “This is my brother, Fred.”

“I think she worked that one out,” Hermione said dryly.

Caroline looked up at Hermione, who was leaning against a tree ever so calmly, surveying the scene before her.

“Hermione,” Caroline said shakily.

Hermione met Caroline’s eyes and recognised her through the mud and the ragged appearance, “Caroline Sumner?”

Fred raised an eyebrow, “You two know each other?”

Hermione nodded, stepping forward and pulling Caroline to her feet. She kept her hands in the older girls and murmured, “ _Scourgify_.”

“You look different all roughed up,” Hermione said with a smile, “You were always so put together – high class.”

Caroline smiled weakly, and Fred and George watched the display with interest.

Hermione let go of Caroline’s hands and looked over at the twins, “This is Caroline; she was in the year above me at school. We studied in the library together.”

Caroline’s smile didn’t reach her eyes when she said, “Particularly last year when you and Ron Weasley were at odds over that silly Lavender girl…but he’s gone now.”

Hermione nodded, narrowing her eyes slightly, “I _know_ what happened to Ron. I was there when Harry lost control. But how do you know?”

“Until tonight, I was working with the rebellion,” Caroline admitted, “But when my step-father died, I left.”

“Kingsley is dead?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Kingsley is your step-father?” The twins echoed.

“He was,” Caroline said, swallowing hard.

“Sorry,” The twins echoed while Hermione gave them an exasperated look.

“Are you fighting for the light too?” Caroline asked, her eyes meeting Hermione’s.

“We don’t fight for anyone at the moment,” Hermione confessed, “It’s complicated, and we shouldn’t discuss out in the open. We have a warded encampment closeby. You could stay if you need a safe place?”

Caroline nodded gratefully, “Yes, please.”

“It’s just through these trees,” Hermione said, hooking an arm through Caroline’s and leading her past their enchantments into the safe zone where they had pitched their tent.

“How do the Death Eaters not see your wards and send snatchers after you?” Caroline asked, looking around.

“Our brother is a dragon rider who subtly never notices our wards,” Fred said.

Caroline frowned.

“But our mother and brother fought for the light, and our father won’t choose a side,” George added.

Hermione looked at Caroline, “You see what we mean about our stance here being complicated?”

Caroline nodded numbly.

They entered the tent, and Fred gently pushed Caroline into a chair.

“Do you know what happened to your mother?” Caroline asked quietly, “Do you know how she died?”

“She isn’t dead,” Hermione said.

George was busying himself with tea to hide the expression on his face. While some of the others acted like they couldn’t care less about their mother's fate, he found it a little harder.

Caroline shook her head, “No, she has to be. Kingsley died, killing her. She couldn’t survive the Kelpies.”

“Banshees can survive many things,” Hermione said, sitting down opposite Caroline and gently taking the other girls hand, “And this banshee was absolutely starving. She had been trapped in Molly for decades, and Molly never let her out to feed.”

Caroline’s eyes were wide, “So she’s still out there?”

Fred nodded.

George pressed a hot cup of tea in a chipped cup into Caroline’s hands, “And the lake underneath Prewett Castle is short six Kelpies.”

“So he died in vain,” Caroline whispered.

“No, Caroline,” Hermione promised, “He got all of you out, so he didn’t die in vain.”

Caroline nodded, her hands shaking.

“Drink your tea,” Hermione said softly as she cast her eyes over Caroline, “Then I’ll get a bath prepared for you. Once you’re all cleaned up in fresh clothes, I think you’ll feel better.”

Caroline nodded but said no more as she raised the cup to her lips with her shaky hands.

George took sympathy on her and whispered a calming charm. Instantly, Caroline’s body relaxed a little.

George looked up at Hermione. The brunette gave him a small, approving nod then took a step closer to Fred.

“We have lost,” she murmured in his ear.

Fred sighed, his hand reaching for her hip automatically. He pulled Hermione close to him, resting his head on top of hers. Over her head, he locked eyes with George.

“She’s right,” George said quietly, his hand on Caroline’s knee as she slowly sipped her tea.

“It might be time to think about using that leverage,” Hermione said, pulling away from Fred to look between the twins.

George gave Fred a nod.

Fred sighed and looked back to Hermione. He gave her a nod and said, “You’re the boss, princess.”

* * *

**McKinnon Castle, Highlands of Scotland ~ The Order of the Phoenix's HQ**

Seamus and Dean had managed to find the Order at one of their safe-houses. It was a castle in the north of Scotland, and ironically enough, it had once been the McKinnon family's home.

“This is where it happened,” Dean had said when they first looked upon the castle, “Where they wiped out my entire family.”

Seamus had taken his hand and squeezed it supportively, without saying a single word.

They had gone through security checks to get through the wards, but once Andromeda Tonks was satisfied that they were who they said they were, they were granted entrance into the castle.

Dean and Seamus were dragged into the war room and questioned about everything they knew about the Army of the Phoenix’s movements. Once they had told them everything they knew, the room fell silent.

This band of rebels was just as small as the other one. Andromeda Tonks and her husband seemed to be the leaders. Andromeda stood at the head of the war table, her dark hair drawn up into a bun and her dark eyes scanning everything before them. Ted stood by her side, leaning against the table, occasionally running a hand through his messy, dirty blonde hair.

Nymphadora was sitting in an armchair by the fire.

Remus stood with his back turned to her, his contemplative eyes on the fire.

The Perks family were here too – it consisted of Gareth and his only daughter, Sally-Anne, who was the same age as Dean and Seamus and, like them, had been sorted into Gryffindor. Gareth’s sister Delia was also here, with her husband Hubert Davies and their son, Roger.

The remains of the Wood family stood around the table too – Emmeline had pure white hair, not because of her age, but because it was an Ollivander family trait. It was how Harry had guessed that Luna was of Ollivander descent.

Emmeline’s two children took after their father, Oliver Wood, and his younger sister, Ophelia, both had mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes.

Pacing the room with a baby girl in her arms was Lydia Jordan (formerly Greengrass) – a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. She was patting the almost-1-year-old on the back and murmuring soothing words to her. Next to her was her husband, Lee Jordan – a dark-skinned man with braided hair. They had eloped not long after they left school, and Rhea had been born shortly after.

“They took my sister,” Lydia said quietly, “My _baby_ sister.”

“It was entirely uncalled for,” Andromeda agreed, “Taking an innocent girl from a neutral family, and for what reason? To lure the Death Eaters into a trap?”

Seamus and Dean nodded.

“Their trap resulted in them losing both of their leaders in one night,” Andromeda scoffed.

Dean frowned, “Their leaders?”

“Haven’t you heard, son?” Ted asked, looking up at Dean, “News got to us earlier today. It seems like there’s some sort of curse on the Prewett bloodline. Molly turned into a banshee and killed Kingsley.”

Dean and Seamus shared a look, the sort of look that said without words, _Can this get any worse?_

Lydia shook her head, “I need to leave, Andi.”

Andromeda looked up, “Leave? Lydia, you cannot leave.”

“They kidnapped my sister,” Lydia reminded them, “I need to go home to see her.”

Lee scoffed, “Go home? To the father who took our daughter away from us when she was three months old, to get her tested in France for her magical ability?”

Lydia sighed, “Lee-”

“No, Lydia,” Lee argued, “He did that because you had the gall to marry a Muggle-born, against his wishes. He was so sure that someone with dirty blood couldn’t give you a magical child, and he was right, wasn’t he?”

“We don’t know that she’s a squib just because _he_ says she is,” Lydia said irritably, “And I, for one, love her regardless.”

“We know you do, Lydia,” Andromeda promised, “But going home is incredibly risky.”

“Try stupid,” Lee added.

Lydia glared at him.

“Lee is right,” Remus said, speaking up for the first time.

“Oh, so you do speak now, do you?” Tonks asked bitterly.

“This is not the time nor the place, Nymphadora,” Andromeda snapped, “We do not air our dirty laundry publically in this family.”

Tonks scoffed, “This whole family _is_ dirty laundry, Mother.”

Remus gave Tonks an irritated look and turned to Lydia, “Your sister has other family members who can care for her. You need to stay here until it is safe for you to go anywhere else.”

“Why?” Lydia asked angrily, “Why do I need to stay here? What good do I do here?”

“Lydia, you need to stay here because _here_ you are safe,” Remus said softly, “Your daughter is safe. You can’t guarantee your safety once you leave this castle. You have no idea how your family will react to you. You have no idea what lengths your father will go to hide _his_ dirty laundry,” he finished, looking directly at Andromeda.

Andromeda fixed Remus with a stern look, “We are here to discuss this war effort, Remus. Not that you decided to marry my daughter and get her pregnant in the middle of a _war_. As if the age gap were not bad enough, or your _other_ affliction.”

Remus scoffed, “Your entire problem is with that affliction.”

“My entire problem is that you seem to enjoy working your way through my family members,” Andromeda said coolly, “Whether that be with my cousin or with my daughter.”

“You dare to suggest that-”

“Yes, I damn well dare, Remus!” Andromeda snapped.

Tonks sighed and threw her head back, “Now whose airing our dirty laundry, Mother?”

Ted placed his hand on Andromeda’s back, “She’s right, love. Can we get back to the crux of the meeting?”

He looked down at the map before them; it was almost identical to the one that had been in Prewett Castle.

“I have to be honest here and say what we’re all thinking. I don’t see how we can win this.”

“Nor do I,” Lydia said, her eyes on the dot that was Greengrass House. For the moment, it was still blue, implying it was the home of a neutral family.

“I think this will backfire on us, thanks to the Army’s brash approach,” Lydia continued, “The Death Eaters saved Astoria, and that may well be enough to convince my father to pledge his loyalty to You-Know-Who.”

“If that is not enough, I believe that Potter is close to convincing your other sister,” A new voice said.

Andromeda turned around with a sigh, “Severus,” she said, relief flooding her.

Severus Snape bowed his head.

“My other sister,” Lydia said, narrowing her eyes, “You mean Daphne?”

“She seems rather taken by Potter. His attempts to charm her have been somewhat successful,” Snape said disdainfully.

“Is there any more news from your camp?” Andromeda asked.

Snape walked over to the table and looked down at the map, “Molly Weasley is dead, but the banshee within has taken control. The Dark Lord has people tracking her down as we speak. He believes we have achieved a great victory over the light.”

“He’s not exactly wrong,” Remus said darkly, looking up at Snape, “Do you think he doubts your loyalty, Severus?”

“He has no reason to do so,” Severus said stiffly, “It was, after all, I, who gave him Potter.”

“We know that wasn’t your intention,” Tonks said, looking at the Headmaster, “But man, I wish we had a bloody time-turner.”

Snape gave a brisk nod, “Quite.”

Remus moved away from his wife to look at Snape, “Is this war lost?”

“I do not believe so,” Snape replied, “There may be a way to gain the upper hand, but it will involve a multi-pronged attack. You will have to work with the Army to launch an attack on the homes of several prominent purebloods simultaneously.”

“Guerrilla tactics,” Ted mused, “Proper guerrilla tactics.”

Remus nodded, “Hit them all at the same time so they can’t band together to fight back.”

“Indeed,” Severus drawled, “I can give you the co-ordinates of the best targets, but I cannot fight with you. The Dark Lord can not discover that I am a spy.”

Andromeda looked down at the map, “Working with the Army is my biggest problem with this plan.”

Delia scoffed, “The Jones family have all but taken over the Army, and we know that we can trust them.”

“We do not know that we can trust them simply because your husband's mother married into the family, Delia,” Gareth argued.

Hubert squared his shoulders, “My mother has been a Jones for longer than she was a Davies. The family are noble and true; they will not kill unnecessarily.”

“Or kidnap innocent little girls?” Lydia asked furiously.

“That was Augusta Longbottom’s idea,” Dean piped up, hoping that piece of information might be useful.

“And she paid the appropriate price for it,” Snape drawled, “Ginevra Weasley is indeed a banshee, and she seems to have some control over her powers.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Andromeda sighed.

Nymphadora scoffed, “Not always.”

“Now is not the time, Nymphadora,” Andromeda snapped.

Ted gave his daughter a warning look and said, “Look, we don’t have to fight alongside the Army. We can dispatch them to different houses but still double our manpower.”

“And it might be a good thing,” Remus added, “It will show anyone who still has hope that the light is united once more.”

Andromeda tapped her fingers against the map, “What homes would you have us target, Severus?”

“I would suggest that you spread out across the country, but ensure that there is no pattern to the homes you attack,” Severus said, his voice low and quiet.

“Send small groups of four to five people to each home,” Snape continued, “But dispatch more people to Malfoy Manor, it is the Dark Lords headquarters, and it will therefore require your best fighters.”

Andromeda swallowed; it was barely visible to most people because she was already looking down at the map.

“Your sister is the Matron at Hogwarts, Andromeda,” Snape pointed out, “She will not be in the Manor when you attack.”

Andromeda looked up, her eyes were cold, but her tone betrayed her, “I do not care about my sister, Severus.”

They all knew that she did, but none of them pointed that out to her.

“Give us co-ordinates and advice, and we will plan the rest,” Andromeda added, with a note of finality.

Ted sighed and managed a small smile, “See? All hope isn’t lost. We might still get these bastards, after all, thanks to Severus.”

Severus did not smile. He simply nodded and pulled his cloak closer to his body, “I must return to Hogwarts. I shall be in touch.”

Without another word, he turned and left, his robes billowing behind him.

*** TBC ***


	33. Losing You is Choking Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up and deals with the consequences of the Battle of Longbottom Grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song:  
> Heartbeat Slowing Down by All-American Rejects.

When Harry woke up, in a room far warmer than his dorm at Hogwarts, he felt a little disorientated, but then the events of the battle all flooded back to him – Ron and Hermione and _Theo_ , thinking his name caused a flood of regret and guilt to hit him smack in the face. So much so that for a second, he couldn't even breathe.

"Channel it into anger," A familiar voice said softly.

"Tom?" Harry asked weakly.

"Yes, I'm here."

For once, he didn't even seem annoyed about being referred to as Tom, which made Harry wonder how severe the situation was. He opened his eyes and looked up at the imposing man sitting by his bed. He expected to see quiet fury written all over his features, not confusion and something akin to hurt.

"Why did you not press your mark?" Tom asked, his eyes boring into Harry's.

Harry frowned, "I didn't think you wanted me to. I thought it was a test."

Real hurt did flash through his eyes then, "You thought it was a test? Have I not been nothing but upfront with you from the moment you joined me? I have welcomed you in, given you more second chances than I sometimes wonder that you deserve. Why would I test you? Had it been a test, I would have told you so."

Harry felt guilty, even more so than he already did anyway. He hadn't meant to hurt Tom's feelings, but clearly, he just had.

"Yes, you did," Tom said sharply, "Because testing you like that is the kind of thing Dumbledore would have done, and I am not him. I thought that you knew that."

"I do," Harry said, inwardly cursing, "I'm sorry for assuming the worst of you."

Tom sighed and leaned back to survey Harry, "Had you pressed your mark the moment they ambushed you, I could have had ten of my best fighters there in seconds. We could have defeated every member of the Army of the Phoenix in one fell swoop, and we would not have lost a promising young Death Eater."

Harry swallowed hard and looked down, "It's my fault he's dead."

"You should have called for help, but you did not kill him," Tom said, surprising Harry, "The coward who cursed him from behind did."

Harry's eyes flashed.

"The way you murdered him was incredibly vindictive," Tom remarked, "His mother had to watch him slowly die from behind that barrier you created. It took them 20 minutes to break it down with magic, by which point Ronald Weasley was long gone."

"That should make me feel better," Harry said, unable to look Tom in the eye, "But it doesn't change the fact that Theo is gone."

"No, it does not," Tom agreed, "And that is something you are going to have to live with. Either by throwing your feelings to the bottom of an abyss or by accepting what happened and moving on."

Harry said nothing.

"I realise that he meant a great deal to you, Harry, but this is precisely why I warned you not to get involved with Death Eaters," Tom explained.

"Being involved with the child of a Death Eater is something different, that merely puts you at the risk of being cursed by that child's powerful, sometimes slightly unhinged father."

Harry remembered his very brief fling with Reyna and nodded.

"But being involved with a Death Eater is different," Tom said, his eyes on Harry, "You are all fighters, and that brings with it a great risk of injury or death. For the same reason that Aurors are not permitted to be involved with other Aurors, I do not allow Death Eaters to inter-mingle."

Harry gave a small nod, "I get it and…I wish I had listened."

Tom sighed, "Some people learn the easy way, but you, Harry? You do not seem to learn until life shows you the hard way. What was it that Lilith said about you? Ah, yes – some people are just born with tragedy in their blood."

Harry looked Tom in the eye; he could tell he was feeling contemplative, "Like you and I, you mean?"

"Indeed," Tom agreed, more readily than he usually did.

Harry wondered what had caused the change, why he wasn't furious with him.

Tom sighed again and answered Harry's unspoken question.

"I knew that you were a powerful wizard, Harry, but I had no idea of your full potential until I looked into Draco's memory and saw the magic you performed two nights ago-"

"Two nights ago?" Harry cut in sharply.

"Yes, it drained you physically and magically, you have had quite the sleep," Tom remarked.

"Huh," Harry mused.

Tom looked Harry directly in the eye, "It took me too long to realise that you are incredibly loyal, and it has occurred to me that I have been pushing you away in pushing you to be better. For that, I apologise."

Harry was stunned; he had never expected an apology from Lord Voldemort – _but scratch that,_ he didn't seem so much like Lord Voldemort anymore, there was a reason Harry referred to him as Tom in his head now rather than as Voldemort.

"Thank you."

Tom just bowed his head in recognition. He rose to his feet, and for the first time, Harry realised where they were – he was back in his room at Malfoy Manor.

"The funeral will be held one week on Saturday," Tom said quietly, "Alfred Nott will be in touch; I believe he wishes you to give thanks to the fire element."

Harry swallowed, unsure how he felt about that.

"You may remain here, or you may return to school until then," Tom said, letting the choice hang in the air.

"I'll go back," Harry said, looking up at Tom, "You'll be there anyway. I don't want to spend the best part of a week moping around the manor with only Lucius and his peacocks for company."

Tom smiled slightly, "I do not blame you in the slightest for that."

"Besides," Harry added, "I think after what I just did for Daphne Greengrass, I'm close to getting the family on our side."

"I would suspect that to be true," Tom said, and for a moment, Harry thought he saw pride in the Dark Lords eyes, "In that case, I will see you at Hogwarts as soon as you feel up to returning."

"Thank you, my lord," Harry returned.

Tom opened the door with a final nod and said, "Congratulations on the victory, Harry. I understand that right now, it might feel like a hollow one, but it is still a victory."

He left, leaving Harry to contemplate those words. He knew it was a victory, but Tom was right; it did feel hollow. He had killed someone he had once considered as his best friend, and he had lost someone who he cared about. He didn't think he could class Theo as his best friend, he suspected that title was split between Draco and Lily these days, but he had cared for him.

_But did you love him?_

The little voice in the back of his head had just whispered. Harry sighed and threw his head back against his pillows. Theo had loved him, but Harry didn't think he had loved him back, and the guilt of that was eating him up as much as his death was.

* * *

Lily was waiting for Tom when he walked through the gates of the castle that afternoon.

"Lilith."

"Tom," Lily said, her tone darker than usual, "Is he okay?"

"He will live," Tom replied evasively.

Lily eyed him warily, "Are you upset?"

"No, I am not upset," Tom said airily, "Being upset is an emotion specific to those who care."

Lily rolled her eyes, "Right because you don't feel human emotions anymore? Well, you seem to feel plenty of very human things when I'm with you late at-"

"Lilith," Tom said, his tone a little harsher, "Need I remind you that we are on the grounds of Hogwarts on a Saturday afternoon and that I am your professor?"

Lily shot him an amused and slightly suggestive look, "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. What I meant to say was that you seem to feel human emotions when you help me study at 8.30 pm, which is certainly before curfew."

Tom fought back a smile and looked at her in amusement, "I am not upset. I am merely disappointed in Harry."

"Wow, now I really feel like I'm sleeping with my ex-boyfriend's dad," Lily said in a sarcastic whisper.

Tom gave her a slightly irritated look, and Lily shut up.

"He should have called me. Why did you not encourage him to do so?" Tom asked.

They stopped by the edge of the forest together, and Lily replied, "You put him in charge, so I respected his authority as I would have done yours."

Tom sighed, "Perhaps I gave him too long a leash before he was ready."

"Well," Lily shrugged, "He'll suffer for it. He lost someone he cares about, and we both know how Harry tends to deal with losses like that."

Tom nodded and looked up at the cloudy, grey sky, "That is exactly what I am worried about."

"I know," Lily mused, "He has Daphne Greengrass this time though, that _might_ just be enough to stop him spiralling out of control."

"For all of our sakes, I hope you are right," Tom murmured, taking her hand and pulling her deeper into the forest.

"The real reason I am angry has nothing to do with Harry, however," Tom said, now that they were away from watchful eyes and keen ears.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, "No?"

"No," Tom said darkly, "We have an unknown banshee-hybrid on the loose."

Lily frowned, "You mean Ginny-"

"Ginevra Weasley is not a problem; she may even prove to be an asset," Tom cut in, "But the banshee that resided in Molly Weasley is a threat."

Lily's eyes widened, "The rumours about a scream that was heard for miles around south Wales is true then?"

Tom nodded, "I currently have the Weasley brothers and Rosier tracking it, but they are notoriously difficult creatures to find at the best of times, and this one has sporadic access to magic."

"Shit," Lily muttered, "So she over-rode Molly's conscience but retained her magic?"

With another nod, Tom replied dryly, "It seems so."

"She's a hybrid," Lily murmured, "An incredibly dangerous, volatile hybrid."

Tom leant against a tree and sighed, "Indeed."

Lily took a step towards him, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Tom sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he drank in her taste and warmth. He kissed her back, softly and slowly, then a rustle sounded in the bushes. Tom withdrew and gave her an apologetic smile, "Not here. Tonight, after curfew?"

With a mischievous smirk, Lily replied, "Yes, sir. See you later, _Professor_."

Tom watched her go, an amused smile unwittingly finding its way to his face.

* * *

Harry waited until later in the evening before he prepared to depart from Malfoy Manor. He didn't want watchful eyes on him when he dragged himself through the castle. He didn't want Lily with her judgy eyes waiting up for him in the Head Common Room.

He was trying to sneak out of the manor, and he thought he had gotten away with it until his feet hit the marble floor of the entrance hall.

"For someone who has had as many adventures as you have, Harry, I am amazed by how terrible you are at sneaking."

Harry grimaced and turned around, "Well, I used to have an invisibility cloak which helped, I'll be honest."

Lucius was leaning in the library doorway, "That would not have stopped you from making at least four stair boards creak," he said, a smirk on his lips.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry said, "I didn't want a fuss, Lucius. I want to go back to Hogwarts, and do the job the Dark Lord has given me and-"

" – never think about Theodore Nott again," Lucius said with a nod, "I know that is what you want, but you will never have it."

Harry looked at the long-haired man properly, "I can control my emotions now. My occlumency-"

Lucius raised a hand, "That is not what I mean. No amount of control helps when you lose someone that you care about. It stays with you, always."

Harry frowned.

"The pain doesn't feel fair," Lucius agreed, "It hurts; it bears down on you every day like a weight on your chest. But that pain has a purpose."

"How can any pain like that have a purpose?" Harry asked. He had wanted to sound angry, but instead, his voice broke halfway through the sentence.

Lucius stepped out of the shadows and caught Harry's eye, "Because it reminds you of how easy it is to get hurt, and that is a fundamental lesson."

Harry swallowed and tore his eyes away from Lucius's. He scanned the portraits in the hall and composed himself before asking, "Who did you lose?"

Lucius sighed and stepped back into the library, beckoning for Harry to follow him. Harry did so out of curiosity more than anything else.

Lucius pulled a photo album from one of the shelves and flipped it open. He pointed to a photograph of two young men.

One of them was Lucius; he was standing in Malfoy Manor's garden and by his side was an extraordinarily familiar boy. Harry's eyes widened, "Is that…"

"Regulus Black," Lucius said, bowing his head.

"I didn't know you were friends," Harry admitted.

"I took him under my wing," Lucius confessed, "After his brother ran away to stay with your father, his parents all but sold him to the Death Eaters, but he was young and impressionable. He needed to be disciplined, just as you did."

Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of the photograph. It was wizarding, so the two men were smiling naturally out of the picture at him.

"I was arrogant back then," Lucius said, closing the album and walking over to the window, "I had yet to lose a friend to the war. I felt that we would win and that we would do so by sacrificing our pawns to take the opposition knights and eventually, their king."

_Dumbledore,_ Harry realised.

"I was wrong," Lucius said quietly. He leant on his cane and turned to look at Harry, "But I did not realise that until Regulus disappeared."

"Did you know that he was a traitor?" Harry asked curiously.

"I suspected that he was going to betray us, and when he disappeared and all of my owls came back, I knew," Lucius said, his grip on his cane tightened as he pursed his lips. With another thoughtful look, Lucius sat down by the fire.

"I knew he was not made to be a Death Eater," Lucius admitted, "He was too kind. His compassion knew no bounds, and his intelligence was truly unrivalled by only the Dark Lords. He was too good for us, and he deserved better."

_Just like Theo,_ Harry thought, forcing down the lump that had risen in his throat.

Lucius did not meet Harry's eye as he finished his story. Instead, he kept his gaze on the fire that lit up the room.

"I have spent the last 18 years blaming myself for what happened to Regulus. If it were not for me, he would never have become a Death Eater. I hold myself responsible for his fate, and I can assure you, Harry – no amount of vengeance or self-loathing makes that weight any lighter. It does not lift; you just get used to the fact that breathing feels a little harder and that happiness is something you have to search for, not something that just happens to you anymore."

Harry could feel tears burning behind his eyes, but he didn't want to let them fall.

"You carry it with you forever," Lucius said, sounding more vulnerable than Harry had ever heard.

Harry wiped his eyes hastily.

Lucius looked up at him, and Harry was surprised to see that his eyes looked a little wet too.

"Regulus hated his family," Lucius said quietly, "But he loved mine, they took him in when he needed it the most, and because of that, he would always say that family wasn't who you were born with, but who you would die for."

Harry cleared his throat and nodded, "Thank you, Lucius."

Lucius gave Harry a weak smile, "I hope you know Harry, that just as my parents considered Regulus as the second son they were never able to have, Narcissa and I consider you as a part of this family."

With a sad smile, Harry nodded, "I do, and I can't tell you how much that means to me."

Lucius gave a stiff nod, and Harry could tell that the conversation had run its natural course.

* * *

Harry got to his dorm room without any interruptions after his conversation with Lucius that night. But the next morning, he knew he would have to face everyone and the only way he knew how to do that was by closing himself off as he had in his fifth year when everyone he cared about had accused him of being a liar.

Lily was the first person he saw. She was just leaving the Head Common room when he stepped out, and she turned around in surprise.

"You're trying to avoid someone. Otherwise, you wouldn't be making your way down five floors of the castle when you could just come out practically on the same level as the great hall."

Harry looked at her irritably, "I'm avoiding everyone, and I'm not going to the great hall."

"What, so you don't eat breakfast now?" Lily quipped.

"No, I eat breakfast, but I'm going to eat it in the kitchen, so I don't have to deal with nosy bastards."

Lily snorted, "You're a terrible liar. You don't care about people being nosy; you're used to being gaped at like a zoo animal. _You_ are scared."

Harry said nothing.

"You're scared of Draco or Daphne blaming you for Theo's death," Lily continued, "And it's a pointless fear because it wasn't your fault-"

"Enough!" Harry snapped.

Lily froze. Her eyes were on Harry's hands. He was well aware of how they had burned when he lost his temper.

Harry took a step towards her and said, his voice quiet but clear, "I am going to the kitchens, and then I am going to go about my day, and if _anyone_ tries to talk to me about Theo, they will end up in the fucking hospital wing. Do you understand me?"

"I understand you," Lily said coldly.

"Good," Harry snapped. He stepped back and stalked away from her, and this time, she let him.

* * *

Draco grabbed Lily's hand when she walked into the great hall that morning.

With a roll of her eyes, Lily yanked it out of his grasp and turned to the Slytherin table, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Have you seen Harry?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I have."

"Okay," Draco said, looking around, "Where is he?"

"Not here," Lily replied irritably.

"And if I were you, I wouldn't go looking for him. He's in a foul mood and has threatened to injure anyone who asks him about Theo so-" she added, looking to the other Slytherins, "- if I were you, I would forget about Theo's existence."

Pansy opened her mouth to thank Lily for the warning, but before she could say anything, Lily said, "Apart from you, Pansy. I couldn't give a crap if you got cursed."

The usual sniggers that would come at such a comment were missing, but Lily took advantage of the distraction and stalked over to the Ravenclaw table, meeting Toms eye as she did so.

Draco sighed and looked across the table at Blaise, "I'm worried about him."

"He'll be fine," Blaise said with a shrug, "Just give him someone to kill; that will make him feel better."

Tracey looked at Blaise in disbelief, "Most people aren't the sons of assassins, Blaise, and therefore, most people don't feel better for killing someone."

"I'd feel better for killing someone right now," Pansy muttered, glaring at Lily's back.

"The Dark Lord is fond of her, so much as threaten her again, and _you'll_ be the dead one," Draco said dryly.

Pansy sighed and stabbed a sausage a little too aggressively, "Why are you so worried about Potter, anyway? I thought Theo was his boyfriend, not you."

Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but something strange happened before he could. Pansy, who had just taken a bite of her sausage, had a fit at the table and fell back, foaming at the mouth.

Snape hurried over to check on her. After what had happened to Hannah Abbott, the scene caused quite a stir.

"Is she okay?" Sophie asked the Headmaster urgently.

Snape looked up. Exasperation was written across his face, "She is fine. It is a mere prank curse, designed to make it look like she had rabies. Do you know anyone who would do such a thing?"

Draco gave Blaise a pointed look, "You were just saying?"

"He _will_ be fine," Blaise said, looking warily at the sausage on his fork, "We just need to give him a wide berth until he's over what happened."

Draco narrowed his eyes as Blaise took a bite of the sausage. When nothing happened, the dark-skinned boy added, "See?"

Draco looked down at his plate with a sigh, only to discover that a note had just appeared.

" _I'm fine. Just don't talk shit about me behind my back."_

Draco knew that Harry was anything but fine, but all the same, he wasn't going to argue with that. He looked up at Snape, who had given him a questioning look.

"Harry's having some trouble processing what happened the other night, and Pansy was an ill-fated victim of his wrath."

Snape glanced up at the head table at Tom. The Dark Lord looked at him and rolled his eyes in response.

"In that case, make sure to tell Potter that however tragic his life is, he cannot curse his classmates," Snape drawled, "Roper, take Miss Parkinson to the hospital wing."

Sophie nodded and got to her feet, ushering Pansy along with her. Snape turned on his heel and stalked back to the head table irritably.

When he took his seat, Snape murmured, "You must reign the boy in, my lord."

Tom turned to Severus, his blue eyes ablaze with fury, "You may be the Headmaster, Severus, but do not forget that I put you here and that I can remove you from the post whenever I wish. Do not bite the hand that feeds you."

Severus fought to contain a flash of emotion in his eyes, but Tom saw it.

"Yes, my lord."

Tom rose from the table and strode down the hall, sending an irritated thought Harry's way as he did so.

_I do not care how upset you are, do not curse your classmates and do not be late for Offensive Magic this morning because I have a practical class planned that might make you feel better._

After a moment, Harry thought back.

_I won't be late and sorry about Pansy. I really don't like her. I'll be honest; if she weren't the Parkinson heir, I'd have killed her by now._

Tom contained an amused smirk and thought, _I have felt that way about Lucius Malfoy for 25 years._

_Wow, remind me never to question your willpower ever again._

Tom smiled and shook his head as he stepped onto the grand staircase.

_Class in ten minutes. Do_ _**not** _ _be late._

* * *

Toms class didn't make Harry feel overly better, but it did take his mind off of things for a couple of hours. It was their first big practical task, and it was, in essence, what Harry had taught in the DA – Tom had set up several dummies around the room, and they were to use them to strengthen their magical power and perfect their spell-casting.

Most people were predictable, but some people surprised Harry. He knew that Daphne would have done well if she were here, but she was absent today, and Harry knew why.

Astoria had been kidnapped and tortured at only 15 years old, and Harry remembered what the events of _his_ fifth year had done to him. He expected that Daphne was needed at home with her sister right now, and he was willing to give her all the time she needed.

Crabbe and Goyle were useless, but Draco and Blaise both impressed Harry. Blaise's spell-casting was amongst the best that Harry had seen. He held his wand up at eye level, closed one eye and aimed, and then he hit the dummy directly in the eye with a piercing charm.

Tom raised an eyebrow, "Impressive, but pointless. Why the eye, not the head?"

Blaise shrugged, "You just told me to show you how precise my spell-casting is, sir. If you had told me to kill the dummy, then I would have done this."

Raising his wand once more, Blaise struck the dummy right in-between the eyes with a piercing charm. He lowered his wand and looked back to Tom.

"Explain your fondness of the piercing charm, Zabini," Tom ordered.

"It's multi-purpose - go for the eyes if you need information. You blind your victim, making them vulnerable, and then you keep them captive until they tell you what you want," Blaise answered, "But go for the head if you want a kill. Piercing charm right through the brain, it's clean and easy, especially if your victim is high profile and you want them to be identified by the Aurors."

Tracey shook her head in amusement and murmured, "Could you make it any more obvious that you came from the mafia?"

Blaise shot her a smirk and said, "I was just explaining my fondness of the spell, as Professor Riddle asked."

"Indeed," Tom said, an amused smile playing on his lips as he called the next student up.

Draco surprised Harry too, not with spell-casting, but with his power. Harry liked Draco but had always viewed him as relatively weak when compared to Theo.

He clenched his hand around his quill, _Theo._

Draco had just fired a blasting curse at the dummy, one powerful enough to push it into the air, where it was suspended for a brief moment before exploding into a pile of dust. Tom repaired the dummy while congratulating Draco, and Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend when he sat down next to him, "Where have you been hiding that?"

"You aren't the only one who bottles things up," Draco said evasively. He grabbed his quill and attempted to make a note in his textbook, but Harry could see how much his hand was shaking.

Harry placed his hand on top of Draco's and caught his eye, "I know."

Thankfully, Harry's attention was drawn back to the front of the class, which saved him from having an emotional heart to heart with Draco about Theo's death.

Tracey had just managed to whip up a miniature tornado, and the spell she had done it with was a first-year one, hence why Harry was intrigued.

The dummy was thrown into the air and crashed down, falling to pieces.

Harry stared at Tracey's smirking face in disbelief, "Did you just do that with _Flipendo_?"

"You can amplify any spell, Potter," Tracey said with a grin, "Nothing is limitless until you give it a limit."

Harry nodded, "Nice," he said, catching Tom's eye over her shoulder.

Tom gave a small nod too, "Very inventive, Miss Davis," he agreed.

Next up was Sophie, who was as mediocre as Harry had expected. Similarly, he didn't see anything that surprised him from Parvati or Sally Smith, another Gryffindor girl in their year.

But last to showcase their skill from Gryffindor house was Neville. A couple of the Hufflepuffs looked at him sympathetically, and Crabbe and Goyle laughed, but most people watched him curiously, interested to see what he would do.

Harry felt a pang of guilt – he hadn't talked to Neville since he got back, and it just then struck him that Neville was probably more than a little bit traumatised too. His girlfriend had just let the demonic magical creature living inside of her out and then blown up his grandmothers head after all.

Nobody had seen Neville perform magic since his injury, nobody apart from Harry, Ginny and Tom. As such, when Neville trained his wand on the dummy, nobody was expecting much. They certainly weren't expecting a speechless _Incendio_ to burn the dummy up in seconds.

Tom smirked and raised his wand to repair the dummy, as he had every other time a student had destroyed it. However, before he could, Neville lifted his wand, spun it around in a clockwise fashion, then thrust it towards the dummy, repairing it perfectly.

With a genuine smile, Tom signed, " _Fantastic job."_

Neville smiled back and signed, " _Thank you."_

Harry rolled his eyes when a Hufflepuff, he thought it might have been the one they called Leanne, started a round of applause by clapping loudly. He spun around in his chair and remarked, "A round of applause? For a deaf guy? For the love of Merlin, you are a bunch of morons."

"Mr Potter," Tom said sharply, "Consider this a warning. One more, and I will remove you from my class."

Harry turned around and gave Tom a sceptical look as he thought, _Children. That's what they are, Tom. Stupid, delusional, exasperating little children._

Tom tore his eyes away from Harry's and beckoned up the first Hufflepuff. Harry thought Tom was ignoring him, but as Ernie showcased his mediocre skills, Tom sent a thought his way.

_Yes, they are. I felt much the same way as you for most of my schooling, but you must learn to rise above it and not become distracted by them if you are to succeed._

Harry said nothing, he would have nodded, but he didn't want anyone else to cotton on to the conversation. So he focused on the class once more.

None of the Hufflepuffs did anything to surprise him – Ernie and Justin were just okay. Wayne Hopkins was slightly better than okay, and Zacharias Smith was as useless as he was irritating. The girls didn't surprise him much either - Leanne was mediocre, and Morag MacDougal had a lot of power that didn't surprise Harry because the MacDougal family was the dominant one wizarding Scotland.

The two who took Harry by surprise and caught Tom's interest were Susan Bones and Megan Jones.

Megan was the only daughter of Matthias Jones, the only one of that generation who bore the 'Jones' name. Everyone knew that the family were the dominant one in Wales, and most people knew that the family tended to lean towards the liberal side, even if they did claim to be neutral.

Megan was unassuming to look at – she had dirty blonde hair, a plain face and dull blue eyes. She was a gossip and Lavender and Parvati's friend, but Harry knew nothing about her beyond that. So, when she stepped forward and cast a curse at the dummy in Welsh, not Latin, everyone stopped chattering to watch in awe.

The spell pushed the dummy back against the wall, and then it turned to sludge. Megan looked up, her dull blue eyes focusing on Tom. She looked at him as if she knew who he was. Frankly, the way she looked at him seemed like a threat. But she said nothing; she simply walked back to her seat.

Tom raised an eyebrow and called the final Hufflepuff – Susan Bones – to the front of the class.

Harry knew she would do something impressive. She was a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff after all, and therefore she should be able to control earth with the adept Harry had with fire or that Daphne had with ice.

Susan was the opposite of Megan – she was undoubtedly not unassuming. She was beautiful. Her once gingery hair was now a dark auburn, and her dark green eyes always seemed to be watchful. She was incredibly aware of her surroundings, but Harry supposed that you would tend to be after a massacre had wiped out your entire family.

Harry cocked his head at Susan as she pocketed her wand and breathed in slowly. The redhead then shut her eyes, and without words, she clenched her hands into fists and raised them. A grumbling sound made some of the more meek members of the class jump, but most people were simply impressed.

Susan had raised a heavy flagstone from the floor without any words or wand movements; it was a great show of magical power and strength. When Susan opened her eyes, they had a yellowy glint to them and murmuring in Latin, almost as if she were in a trance, Susan sent the stone flying at the dummy.

Tom clapped his hands with the rest of the class, "Fantastic Miss Bones, a truly splendid display of elemental magic. That is a beautiful thing to behold. Many people believe magic so ancient and pure is on the verge of dying out."

Susan smiled proudly.

"But," Tom finished, "Would you mind putting my classroom back together, please?"

Susan laughed, "Sorry, Professor," she admitted, repairing the flagstone and setting it back in place.

Harry looked up and caught Tom's eye. The Professor had just called forward the first Ravenclaw as he thought to Harry, _I want her. I want as many founders descendants as possible working with me._

Harry bowed his head, _Noted. I will see what I can do._

The Ravenclaws were, for the most part, predictable. Accuracy and spell-casting was their strong point, as you would expect.

Michael Corner had impressed Harry with his power and inventiveness, though – he used a spell that made several arrows fly out of his wand simultaneously, all branching off to hit the dummy in different places. They pierced the dummy with such force that some of them went right through it, and Harry nodded.

_Nice,_ he thought to himself.

Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein were both quite powerful, and Padma Patil was weak but precise. Harry had known all of this already though, having taught them himself in the DA.

Harry knew how powerful Lily was, and he also expected that Tom would pull her up last for that reason – finish on a high and all that.

Tom beckoned up the first of two wildcards – Mandy Brocklehurst. The dark-skinned, curly-haired girl proved to be rather ordinary.

Lisa Turpin was tall and pretty, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. She looked quite cute and harmless until she attacked the dummy. She raised her wand and focused, then cried, " _Confringo!"_

The curse, which produced a fiery explosion, hit the dummy in the chest and blasted it against the back wall, where the flames consumed it in seconds.

Harry clapped with his classmates and murmured, "Who knew, huh? Michael Corner and Lisa Turpin, top of the power class for the Ravenclaws."

"We haven't seen Lily yet," Draco whispered as Lily stepped forward, "And it's hardly a surprise anyway. Corner and Turpin both have Greengrass blood, and you know how powerful they are."

Harry frowned, "Remind of how they are related to Daphne again," he said.

Draco didn't chuckle as he usually would at such a comment. Instead, he just replied, "Distantly. Daphne's Grandfather had two siblings – a sister, who married Fleamont Potter, and a brother who married a muggle-born. That brother had three children, a son who died without an heir last year and twin daughters, one of whom married the pureblood Michael Corner Senior and another who married the muggle-born, Horatio Turpin."

"Got it, thanks," Harry whispered.

They fell silent after that because they were interested to see what Lily would do, as was Tom it seemed from the way he was looking at her. She had left her wand on the table, which caught several people's attention because generally, it was only those who could control elemental magic or people like Neville who did not use a wand.

Lily closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, her eyes were ablaze, and her hands burned bright red. She took a step forward and placed her hands on the dummy, burning two holes in its chest. That in itself was quite impressive, but when she lunged forward and disintegrated the dummy, everyone stared in silent awe.

"Excellent, Miss Black," Tom said as he too revelled at her abilities.

Harry sent a thought Tom's way; _how can she do that? Must she be descended from Gryffindor somehow?_

Tom told them to take notes about what they had seen. He sat down behind his desk and thought back, _I doubt it. If you are descended from Gryffindor, which I believe you are, then it must be through a squib line via your mother. The Blacks descend from the Peverell family, which has no links to Gryffindor whatsoever._

_So how can she do that?_ Harry glanced up at Lily. Although she looked smug, she also seemed paler than usual.

_She has simply learned to control her chaos. That raging, raw magic that we all have inside of us? Lily can control that with sheer will power._

Harry looked from Lily to Tom, who was staring resolutely down at whatever he was writing.

_No wonder you like her so much._

Tom didn't look up, but Harry did see him smile slightly. Then his mind went blank as he shut the metaphorical door in Harry's face.

*** TBC ***


	34. In the Shadow of All the Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry steps out of line out of anger and remorse over Theo’s death, and he suffers the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song:  
> I’ll Follow You by Shinedown (Which is a Tom x Lily song if ever I heard one. I love it and think it matches them perfectly!)
> 
> ~ WARNINGS ~  
> Explicit, rough M/F sex scene (It's Tom x Lily so skip if you're not into that pairing)

* * *

**~ WARNINGS ~**

**Explicit, rough M/F sex scene (between Tom & Lily so skip if you're not into the pairing)  
**

* * *

A few days after the battle, Harry was trying to distract himself with a book in his dorm room when his arm burned. He sighed and ran his hand over the hot skin as he wondered what Tom wanted with him now. All the same, he pushed himself to his feet and left via the Slytherin common room.

"You too?" Blaise asked as he and Draco fell into step with Harry.

Harry nodded.

"Well, that's reassuring," Draco remarked, "If he's calling all of us, it must just be a meeting."

Harry could have scoffed, but he didn't.

"Of course it's a meeting," He said instead, "Don't you think the others ought to be briefed on what happened the other night?"

It was a fair point, so Draco and Blaise fell silent.

Harry almost wished that they hadn't; he wished they were still talking about mediocre shit because that would have been enough to distract him from the realisation that he would have to face Theo's father tonight.

All the same, he tried not to think about it while they exited the school together and apparated to Malfoy Manor. They were the last to arrive, and Harry apologised for their late-ness then took his seat by the Dark Lords side. He glanced around, intrigued to notice that Bellatrix was missing.

_I thought it best. What with the child due to be born soon._

_That makes sense, Harry_ realised

Tom cleared his throat, "Some of you may be wondering why I called this meeting, and others already know. A few days ago, there was a small skirmish which it seems will hereafter be referred to as the Battle of Longbottom Grove."

Harry looked down at the table, not particularly looking forward to the play-by-play of one of the worst nights of his life.

"It was a victory," Tom said, "But unfortunately, young Theodore lost his life."

There was some murmuring, a couple of apologies, and Harry was pretty sure he heard someone smack Alfred Nott on the back 'supportively'. But he couldn't bring himself to look at Theo's father.

"Alfred will hold his funeral on Saturday," Tom continued, "And I expect all of you to be in attendance. We owe it to Theodore. He gave his life for our cause."

Harry looked up when he heard shuffling coming from further up the table. Alfred Nott had gotten to his feet; he gave a brisk nod and said, "My son has proven himself to be a chip off the old block these past few months, and I've never been more proud of him."

Harry bit back a scoff. _Proud? What use is pride? He's fucking dead, you moron._

Tom gave Harry a warning look.

Harry glared back at him; _He's fanatical._

_If that helps him process his grief, does it matter?_ Tom thought-asked. He nodded sincerely at Alfred as other Death Eaters clapped him on the back. _Muggles pretend there is a god to make them feel better about death and their pointless existence._

Although it was a fair point, Harry wasn't in the mood to admit that, so he kept his mind as clear as possible.

Tom cleared his throat, and silence fell instantly.

"The Army of the Phoenix suffered heavy losses in the battle," Tom said, looking specifically at Harry, "After the coward, Ronald Weasley cursed Theodore in the back, Harry punished him appropriately. What are your feelings on the demise of your youngest brother, William?"

Bill looked up, "Anyone who condones the kidnapping and torture of an innocent 15-year-old girl is no brother of ours."

Tom gave them a satisfied nod and leant back in his chair, "My sources tell me that one of the Aurors that Shacklebolt had fighting with him was burned so badly in the attack that he died shortly afterwards. His name was Sorenson Cauldwell. Did the Cauldwell family not confirm to us that they were staunchly neutral?"

"They did, my lord," Yaxley confirmed.

"I thought so," Tom drawled. He looked Dolohov in the eye, "Take your best men and kill them all."

"All, my lord?" Rodolphus asked.

Tom looked at his follower, "Oh yes, I forget that your sister married a Cauldwell for his American fortune. Do you wish us to spare her?"

"If your mercy will extend to her, then yes, my lord," Rabastan answered.

With a nod, Tom gave Dolohov his full attention once more, "Kill Septimus Cauldwell and his muggle-loving fool of a brother along with his muggle wife. If Lotus Lestrange resists, kill her too but spare the girl."

"The girl, my lord?" Dolohov questioned.

"Rodolphus and Rabastan's niece," Tom said, leaning back in his chair, "She is our only chance to keep the Cauldwell name alive after all, and that American fortune could be useful. If we can persuade young Sadie to join us, she may carry on the Cauldwell name."

There were nods, and Harry felt like his usual clueless self because the name Cauldwell and Sadie meant nothing to him. He whispered this to Draco, who murmured back, "She was in Slytherin until our second year, then her parents pulled her out to home school her after she had some mental breakdown."

Harry nodded and gave the meeting his full attention once more.

Tom continued, "Augusta Longbottom was also killed. Ironically enough, by your sister," he nodded at the Weasley boys, "She is with us, I presume?"

"She isn't on anyone's side, my lord," Bill answered evasively, "She's 16 years old. She can make her own decision when she comes of age."

"Hm," Tom said, an amused smile coming to his lips, "Old enough to kill, yet not to decide where her loyalties lie?"

"With respect, my lord," Harry said, leaning forward in his chair, "Ginny Weasley did not kill Augusta Longbottom, Aideen – the banshee trapped inside of her – did."

"Yes," Tom said, tapping the table absentmindedly as he looked at Fitz.

"Speaking of banshee's, William. Would you fill us in on what you discovered?"

Bill nodded, and everyone gave him their full attention.

"We heard reports of a scream being heard for miles around south Wales," Bill explained, "So we went to Prewett Castle to discover the source of it, and it appears that the castle was, up until recently, the Army of the Phoenix's base."

Bill paused and frowned, "The scream that was heard was that of a banshee. One of the army's leaders, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was killed saving the others from it. The banshee then fed on six Kelpies residing in the lake beneath the castle and fled. My brother and Felix Rosier are currently tracking it."

"And the identity of the banshee, William?"

"She is residing in my mother's body, but my mother is dead. All that remains is the banshee."

"A key example of the fate that all banshees trapped within human hosts will, eventually, suffer," Tom said, turning to look at Fitz, "Speaking of which, how is your former flame, Fitzroy?"

Fitz swallowed, "She is well, my lord, and she would very much like to remain so. I understand that we consider her to be below us because she is a half-breed, but given your permission, I would marry her and carry on the Mulciber line."

There were some snorts of laughter at this, but Tom didn't respond to them.

He kept his gaze on Fitz as he considered this, "The Mulciber line? Your family is merely a sister branch of the Burke family, the remains of their Irish contingent. While the Burkes came back to England and made a name for themselves, the Mulciber family fell into obscurity and alcoholism. I suppose it is only appropriate that you would ask to marry a banshee."

Fitz looked down as some of the other Death Eaters guffawed at his expense.

"Perhaps you should befriend Narcissa's niece, Nymphadora," Tom continued, "I hear she has an affinity for magical creatures too."

"With all due respect, my lord, werewolves and banshees are entirely different. My former fiancé has a magical creature inside her, but she is a witch. While I hear that Narcissa's niece prefers full bestiality," Fitz said, barely managing to contain his temper.

Tom clicked his tongue, "She is a Prewett?"

Fitz nodded, "Yes, and an incredibly powerful witch."

"An incredibly powerful witch who has been inside Castle Jones and who grew up in Wales," Tom said, his eyes glancing around the room, "For that reason, she may prove useful. If Bethel Prewett can provide me with information on the Jones family, specifically on their castle and their wards, then you can do whatever you want with her."

"Understood, my lord," Fitz said, bowing his head.

"What do the Jones family have to do with it?" Harry asked curiously.

Tom looked at his older followers, "Everything, Harry. I have reason to believe that they are rising against us, as they did the last time. Augustus, would you care to give our younger recruits a history lesson?"

Gus nodded and leant forward, eyeing the younger contingent, which included his daughter, "It wasn't just the Order who resisted last time. Some of the more liberal families rose against us, the Welsh and Scottish ones specifically. The Jones' were the figureheads, but they hid in their impenetrable castle while they sent their pawns out to do their bidding."

Harry hung onto his mentors every word.

"Gethin Jones was the head of the family, and he was untouchable," Gus continued, "So we targeted those close to him. His son and heir, Matthias, was married to a Bones girl. To wipe out their support, we went after the entire family, and only two escaped the massacre."

Harry nodded, _Amelia and Susan Bones._

"But when we took out the Bones family, we made the McKinnon's angry," Gus added, "Edgar Bones had been married to Morana McKinnon, and both of them and their baby children were killed in the attack. The remainder of the McKinnon family rose against us, and they too were wiped out."

"The Bones babies, though, that was an accident," Dolohov admitted with a frown, "We had no idea there were kids in the castle when we lit it up."

Harry frowned down at his hands, trying not to pass judgement on that one when he wanted to yell, _why the fuck didn't you check then?!_

"Unfortunately, that was the way the war was at that time," Tom said quietly, "There was a lot of collateral damage."

"Collateral damage?" Harry snapped, looking up, "That's what dead children are. Collateral fucking damage?"

Harry pushed himself up from the table, "Is that what Theo was too? Collateral damage?"

Tom's eyes flashed, and Draco looked at Harry like he was insane.

"Harry!" Draco hissed, "Do you have a death wish?"

"Maybe I do," Harry said, pushing his chair back, "But I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about collateral damage. I'm the collateral damage of that last war, _I_ am!"

Tom rose to his feet and pointed his wand at Harry.

Harry knew what was coming, and he didn't even try to fight it. Tom levitated him into the air and cast the cruciatus curse on him while suspending him above the table.

Draco grimaced and looked down, unable to look upon and listen to Harry's suffering.

"I hope you do not think that undermining me is going to distract anyone from the fact that it is your fault that young Theodore is dead," Tom hissed.

"I do not care how much self-loathing you have brewing inside you over that; you will not undermine me and expect not to have to suffer any consequences."

Tom ended the curse and threw Harry back violently. He hit the fireplace, and a crack sounded, but Harry somehow pulled himself to his feet anyway.

"Get out of my sight," Tom ordered coldly.

Harry bit back the "gladly" that wanted to come out of his mouth, and he walked towards the patio door, which swung open when he reached it. He stepped outside and magically blew it shut with such force that the glass shattered.

Tom looked around the table furiously, "Does anyone else have anything to say?"

The occupants were silent, so Tom took his seat once more.

"As I was saying, the Jones family seem to have risen against us once more. This time, they have taken in what remains of the Army of the Phoenix. It is, therefore, imperative now that we convince the neutral families to place their faith in us, not the Jones family."

There were nods and sounds of agreement at this.

"Meeting dismissed," Tom said, tapping the table irritably, "Lilith."

Lily paused; she had been in the process of getting to her feet.

"Stay," Tom ordered.

With a nod, Lily sat back down while the others filtered out of the room. Most of them left via the entrance hall, but Draco slipped out of the patio door and hurried into the woods to look for Harry.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked when the room was clear.

Tom got to his feet and pointed at the patio door, "He was out of line."

"He was," Lily admitted, "But he is also grieving."

Tom scoffed, "And how long will he grieve for? Am I expected to walk around on eggshells around him for fear of hurting his precious feelings?"

His words were dripping with sarcasm which was why Lily raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, Tom, but no amount of tough love is going to make him feel any better and also calling him out on the fact Theo is dead because of him probably hasn't helped matters either," Lily said pointedly.

"You would question me too?" Tom asked furiously, taking a step forward to grab her wrists.

Lily looked from her wrists, which were firmly in his tight grasp, to his face, "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Tom looked her in the eye, "It ought to scare you into obeying me."

Lily scoffed, "If you want someone to obey you, then kill me now because I will always question you when I think you're wrong, and right now, I think you're wrong."

Tom pushed her back against the fireplace; the fury in his eyes was real as he stared into her eyes, "I cannot decide if I would be doing myself a favour or a disservice if I killed you."

"Well," Lily said, her eyes on his lips, "The line between what brings us pain and what sustains us is thinner than you would imagine."

Tom gripped her wrists tighter with an irritated growl and closed the gap between them to kiss her hard. Lily didn't resist, despite the fact they had been arguing. She moved to wrap her arms around Tom's neck, but the Dark Lord did not let her. He still had a tight grip on her wrists, and he pinned them against the wall.

Lily made a noise, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, against his lips.

Tom kissed her harder, nipping at her lip, forcing his tongue against hers and easily winning the battle for control. If Lily wanted to, she could use her little uncontrollable magic trick to get the upper hand, but she didn't.

He broke the kiss to murmur a wandless, " _Incarcerous,"_ binding Lily's hands together. Then he held her wrists to the wall with one hand and moved the other down her body.

Lily let out an involuntary moan when he slipped his hand into her trousers and panties, thumbing her wet folds, "Tom!"

"You have been shirking my authority for long enough, Lilith," Tom hissed, his lips against her neck, "I think it is time for you to use my title."

Lily writhed against him, and Tom slipped his index finger into her, his thumb rubbing her clit hard, to the point that it was as painful as it was pleasurable, "Yes, my lord," Lily cried out, louder than she had meant to.

Tom groaned and pressed his erection against her leg, eliciting another moan from her lips.

"If this were my home, I would turn you around and punish you for your insubordination on that table," Tom said, his voice low and dangerous.

Lily tightened around his fingers, and he chuckled, "Of course you would like that. But, as Lucius likes to remind us, it _is_ mahogany."

He slipped his fingers out of Lily and gripped her hips. Before she knew what was happening, he had used black magic to transport them to his quarters. Their feet hit the ground with force like they did after apparition, and Tom pressed Lily into the wall.

They were in his study, and Nagini was lounging by the fire. She barely lifted her head at the commotion, but Tom hissed in her direction, " _Nagini, leave us."_

The sound Lily made when Tom spoke in parseltongue was as involuntary as it was arousing. It made Tom smirk as he turned her around and bent her over his desk. Vanishing all of her clothes in one fell swoop, Tom hissed, " _Like that, do you?"_

Lily whimpered, and Tom chuckled lowly. He vanished his clothes as he took the final step to stand behind her, rubbing his cock against her wetness.

"Tom," She gasped.

Tom thrust into her without any further warning, and Lily cried out loudly. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back so that she was closer to his face, "What did I say about using my correct title, Lilith?"

"Yes, my lord," Lily gasped, "I'm sorry, my lord."

Tom's cock grew harder inside of her, and he pushed her down so she was flush against the hard, wooden desk. He slammed into her hard, moving quickly, releasing the frustration that had built up over the last few stressful weeks.

He moved his hands from Lily's hips to grab her relatively small breasts and pull her up against him. he held her tightly, her entire body flush against his as she struggled to stay standing.

Tom groaned and thrust into her in a fast rhythmic fashion, reaching down to rub his thumb over her swollen clit and making her arch into him, "Fuck!" she cursed, "Oh, yes, my lord."

Her words sent him tumbling over the edge. He slammed her down against the desk and grabbed her hips, thrusting into her hard.

Lily gasped, gripping the desk as her orgasm built, the familiar feeling of pleasure pooling in her stomach.

With one final rough thrust, Tom growled and bit her shoulder as he came. Lily's walls tightened around him, a whole line of expletives falling from her mouth as she gasped and moaned his name.

The room was silent in the aftermath of the particularly rough sex – they hadn't done anything like that, and for the first time, Tom paused, worried that he had put her off. He murmured a couple of cleaning charms them ran his fingers over the bite mark on her shoulder, whispering a healing charm impossibly softly.

Lily turned around and pushed herself onto the desk. She grabbed Tom's hands and pulled him towards her, lifting her chin to kiss him softly. He hesitated, unsure whether he should kiss her back or not.

She could sense his discomfort, so Lily moved her hands from his. Instead, she settled them around his neck as she deepened the kiss, pulling him close to her. Tom got the hint and allowed himself to relax into her touch and her warmth.

"I'm sorry," Tom murmured against her lips.

"Don't be," Lily returned in a whisper.

* * *

"Harry!"

"Oh, would you just fuck off?" Harry yelled, spinning around, then groaning and doubling over in pain.

Draco rushed forward as Harry leant against the trunk of a large tree for support.

"Will you not even let me die in peace?" Harry asked irritably.

"No, because you don't get to come out here and die," Draco growled, pulling Harry to his feet.

Harry grimaced in pain and tried to yank his arm out of Draco's, but he realised a little too late that Draco was about the only thing holding him up.

"You think I'm going to let you come out here and die because you think it's your fault Theo is dead?"

"It is my fault!"

"No, it isn't!" Draco shouted, "It's _my_ fault, okay? I wasn't good enough to kill Ron fucking Weasley! I could barely hold him off in that duel, and because of that, he killed Theo!"

Harry looked up at Draco. The blonde boy had tears rolling down his face, "It's not your fault. I was duelling Weasley when he cast that curse at Theo; it's my fault."

Harry grabbed Draco's hand with a shake of his head and pulled him down to his level. Draco fell rather ungracefully to his knees in front of Harry. Harry sucked in a shaky breath, gripping his chest as he did so, "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," Draco said, his voice unsteady.

Stars were beginning to dance across his vision, but Harry reached out and gripped Draco's shoulder, "You did the best you could. You're not a trained fighter, Draco."

"Neither are you," Draco said quietly.

Harry laughed then hissed in pain, "Me? Course I am, school of life, I've been living it since I was a kid."

Draco looked at Harry's chest and sighed, pulling his wand out of his back pocket.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked breathily.

"If you think I'm going to let you die from a broken rib, then you've got another thing coming," Draco replied, "Grit your teeth."

Harry did so, but he still ended up crying out in pain when Draco reset the bone.

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure I'm bleeding internally too," Harry said, leaning against the tree as he tried to get to his feet.

Draco lifted his wand and began to cast a diagnostic charm, "What makes you so sure?"

Harry grimaced and rested his forehead against the tree, then he began to cough, and Draco instantly saw the problem – Harry was practically throwing up blood.

"Fuck," Draco cursed as he scrambled in his pocket for something. Harry thought it was a potion of some sort, but he realised that it was a mirror and wondered how a mirror was supposed to be useful.

As Harry's vision began to blur, and nausea reared its head in his stomach. His head began to pound, and the last thing he heard was Draco calling for his mother.

* * *

"You almost killed him."

Tom rolled his eyes and sat up in his bed, "And?"

"And don't you think that warrants an apology?" Lily asked, looking at the older man pointedly.

"No, I think he deserved it."

"Would you still be saying that to him if he was dead?"

"I would not be saying anything to him if he was dead because that would be pointless."

Lily smacked her self in the head, "God, Tom! You're impossible," she said as she got to her feet and stepped into the walk-in wardrobe.

"I presume he is fine?"

Lily stepped out of the cupboard, fully dressed, "Oh, so you do care?"

"He has his uses," Tom said evasively.

Lily shook her head in disbelief, "I don't know if he's okay. All I know is that when I went downstairs to get a drink earlier, Lucius was sitting up in the kitchen waiting for Narcissa to floo with an update from the hospital wing at Hogwarts."

"Why did she take him to Hogwarts? He has a perfectly good room here," Tom pointed out.

"Hm, let me think about that," Lily said sarcastically, "Do you think it might have something to do with the fact that the person who almost killed him is here, and maybe Narcissa thought it would be better for him _not_ to be in the same house."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "You seem irrationally angry about this."

"Are you _ever_ going to understand human emotions?" Lily asked him quite calmly.

Tom considered that for a moment, "I have spent the last 70 years not understanding human emotions, and I am quite content to carry on in that way, Lilith."

Lily sighed, "I'm going back to Hogwarts to check on him. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"I hope you have not neglected to complete your six-page essay about the practical uses of offensive magic," Tom called as she left the room.

"Shut up!" Lily called back in response.

* * *

When Harry woke up, he was aware that it was early in the morning by the soft light filtering in. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times while he got his bearings; he was quite relieved to discover that he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts rather than his room at Malfoy Manor.

He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, they fell on the boy by his bed.

"He has been there all night."

Harry looked up at Narcissa, "Has he?"

Narcissa nodded and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, "I told him that he should go back to the common room and get some sleep, but he said he would not leave his brother."

Harry looked away from Narcissa at Draco, who was fast asleep, his head resting on his shoulder. He sighed and leant back against his pillows, "I'm sorry for my little breakdown last night, but I just…some days. I don't know how to do it, Narcissa."

Narcissa took his hand and put a finger under his chin. She lifted his face gently as a mother would do, and she smiled kindly at him, "You lost Theodore, and I understand how hard that is for you. But you must consider the other people who care for you."

Harry sighed and nodded, "I just feel like I can't win, like the battle keeps changing every time I feel like I'm getting a grip on it."

Narcissa leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, "The Dark Lord promises that it will be over soon. Have faith."

Harry wanted to, but it was getting increasingly hard to have faith in someone so changeable. All the same, he nodded.

Narcissa left, and Harry reached out to shake Draco awake. The blonde boy opened his eyes groggily, and Harry smiled, "Morning, sunshine."

"You don't get to be a sarcastic prick," Draco mumbled, "You were suicidal last night."

"Minor blip, I'm all good now," Harry said, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his wand.

"Did Mother say you were allowed to leave?" Draco asked.

"Not in those exact words, but I feel fine," Harry said; he transfigured his hospital pyjamas into his school clothes.

"Harry, you nearly died last night," Draco said in disbelief.

"Meh," Harry shrugged, "I feel as good as new, a great healer, your mum."

Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue with Harry further, but before he could say anything, the sound of clicking heels filled the hospital wing. When the rapid clicking came to an end, Lily stepped into his little cubicle.

"Ah," Harry said with a half-hearted smile, "The pocket rocket herself, what have I done to deserve this honour?"

Lily crossed her arms, "You look okay."

"I'm fine," Harry said, "Just a broken rib."

"And a punctured lung," Draco added, "Do you remember throwing up blood? Or suffocating in your blood? Because I do, and it was traumatic."

"Uh-huh, I love you too, Draco," Harry said, pushing himself off of the bed and then realising that his legs were shaky.

Draco reached out and caught him before he could fall.

"Good as new, huh?" Lily asked.

"I'm fine," Harry said with a wave of his hand, "I'm not staying in bed for the whole day."

Lily looked at Draco, "Is it just me, or does he seem high on pain potions?"

"It's not just you," Draco replied dryly.

With a roll of her eyes, Lily pushed Harry back onto his bed, "You nearly died last night. You are spending the day in bed. If it's such an unbearable thought, just keep your boyfriend here and play chess all day."

Harry scoffed, "Boyfriend? Please, he's not my type."

"Exclusively into _female_ blondes, are you?" Lily quipped.

"Exclusively not into a bloke who feels like family to me," Harry said, trying to keep his eyes open, "Not a Black, not into incest."

"I could kill you," Lily reminded him while Draco bit back a smirk.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't. You think I'm cute."

"I think you're a dick, actually," Lily remarked, "But you have your uses, so I'll keep you around."

Harry opened one eye, "Where's your boyfriend?"

Lily raised an eyebrow, "What makes you think I know that?"

"Cause even high on pain potions, I'm perceptive," Harry said, his words beginning to slur, "You smell of Malfoy Manor and snake. Does Nagini sleep on the bed when you're with him?"

Lily frowned, "That's not relevant to this conversation."

"Hm," Harry said sleepily, "She's a blood-cursy thing though, used to be a woman, so if you shag in front of her, she's basically perving on you."

Lily made a face, "What? That's disgusting!"

"That's Tom Riddle for you," Harry said, his words slurring and becoming incoherent, "Trigger happy, annoyingly handsome pain in the dick."

Lily looked at Draco, "Pain in the dick?"

"I've heard him say that before, but what the hell is trigger happy?"

"Muggle thing," Lily replied, "Do we think he's passed out?"

Harry began to snore.

"I'd say so, yeah," Draco said, shooting Lily an amused look, "So, how do you feel about being perved on by a snake lady?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "I think you should go to hell. Oh, and take a toothbrush."

She disappeared behind the screen, and Draco called after her, "Thanks, awfully considerate of you!"

"It's so the devil can shove it up your arse!"

Draco tutted and propped open a book, then rested his feet on Harry's bed, "How rude," he murmured to himself.

* * *

"Were you ever planning on telling me that your snake is a pervert?"

Tom didn't look up from his paperwork, "Good morning, Lilith."

Lily glared at him and shut the door, "She's a woman!"

"She _was_ a woman," Tom corrected her, "Now she is a snake."

"With a human brain and the memories of a _woman,"_ Lily said in disbelief, "And you just let her sleep in-between us? And watch us have sex?"

Tom looked up at Lily in exasperation, "Yes. Why does this upset you so much? She is a snake, Lilith. Do you feel threatened by her? Because rest assured, you have nothing to concern yourself about. Nagini eats her sexual partners when she is done with them; even if I were a snake, I would steer clear."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, "You're an idiot, you know that? I mean, you're the darkest wizard ever, but sometimes you say such dumb things."

Tom looked at her blankly.

"You genuinely don't understand why this bothers me," Lily muttered, "Okay, let me spell it out for you. The snake lady does not share the bed, and when I'm screaming your name bent over a desk, she doesn't get to watch."

Tom smirked, "Noted."

"Why are you smirking?"

Tom nudged his head in the direction of the fireplace where Nagini was lounging, and she looked thoroughly displeased.

" _Do you think I enjoy watching such hedonistic displays?"_

Lily bit her lip, "Did I piss her off?"

"She's offended that you think she wants to watch you," Tom said, picking up his quill and smirking at her, "You're not her type."

Lily could count on one hand the number of times she had heard Tom make a joke, so for that reason, she snorted and glanced over at Nagini, "Sorry, Nagini."

" _Silly girl,"_ Nagini hissed distastefully.

Tom smirked and looked back down at his work, "She accepts your apology."

" _Liar."_

" _Oh, do be quiet, Nagini,"_ Tom hissed in response, not missing the way Lily's breath hitched when he spoke in parseltongue.

* * *

After a day of bedrest, Narcissa released Harry on the condition that Draco kept a close eye on him over the next few days. Harry was well aware that Draco had plenty of blackmail on him after his pain-potion induced ramblings throughout the day, but he had blackmail on Draco too, so he wasn't overly concerned by that.

What did take him by surprise was the person he bumped into on his way out of the hospital wing.

"Professor Riddle," Harry said calmly.

Tom bowed his head, "May I escort you to the Slytherin common room?"

Harry gave him a strange look, "Sure."

They fell into step together, and Tom looked down at the ground, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Harry lied, but he knew it was pointless because he could already feel Tom rummaging around in his head.

"You were out of line," Tom said.

Harry nodded, "Yes, but I stand by what I said."

"I understand that it is a sore subject for you, naturally," Tom said, "And it has come to my attention that my punishment may have been too harsh."

"If this is an apology, it's a terrible one," Harry said, giving him a sidelong glance.

Tom sighed and came to a stop. He looked around and cast a spell on a mirror, changing the reflection into what looked like a dusty old study. He motioned for Harry to walk through, then he followed him inside.

The portal became a mirror once more, and Tom leant against an old wardrobe that was rattling funnily.

"I am sorry," He confessed, "I am quick to anger, and you undermined me in front of my followers. If I had not acted, I would have seemed weak."

"Yeah, I get it," Harry said, resting against a large wooden desk, "I get _you,_ more than you think sometimes."

Tom looked him in the eye, "You have no idea what it is like to be me, Harry."

"I have a pretty good idea, actually," Harry confessed, "You give out pieces of yourself to people, but you never let them see the whole picture."

Tom frowned.

"People like Lily and Bellatrix, and your most loyal followers," Harry continued, his eyes on Toms, "But I've seen the whole picture. I know the boy who was abandoned at the orphanage and the charming teenager who sought to change the world. I know who you are, Tom."

Tom didn't lose his temper. He just tore his gaze away from Harry, "Then you know that when I say I am sorry, I do wholeheartedly mean that."

Harry nodded, "I do, and I appreciate it."

Tom cleared his throat, "I need you to focus on recruitment. It is more imperative than ever now that the Jones are rising against us. We need young blood, and we need to convince the neutral families to join us before the Jones's do."

"When Daphne comes back to school, I'll talk to her, and hopefully, from there, the others will follow," Harry said with a nod, "I know that the pressure is on."

With a nod, Tom turned the mirror back into a portal again, and this time when they stepped through it, they were in the dungeon corridor.

"Neat," Harry said as the portal changed back to a mirror, "How did you do that?"

Tom smiled, "I will never let you in on all of my secrets, Harry," he said on a parting note.

* * *

"You lied," Harry said in a sing-song voice as he fell into step with Tracey.

Tracey shot him an amused look, "Did I?"

"I remember what you said to me, all the way back at the beginning of the term," Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "What do you want with a mediocre half-blood? Isn't that what you said?"

Tracey smiled sweetly, "I _am_ a half-blood."

"Maybe, but you're not mediocre," Harry said, "Taking a dummy out with a magnified _Flipendo_? That was something to behold. The Dark Lord knows about your talent now, and he wants you."

Tracey turned around abruptly halfway across the covered bridge, and Harry nearly bumped into her.

"The Dark Lord knows about my talent? How would that be, exactly?"

Harry gave her an amused look, "Your brothers are Death Eaters, Tracey. You knew who Professor Riddle was from the minute he walked into the great hall."

"Wow, Sherlock," Tracey said sarcastically, "However did you work that one out?"

"You were one of the few people not to gape fawn at or fawn over him," Harry replied with a smirk.

Tracey grinned and took a step closer to Harry, "Bet you think you're so smart right now, don't you?"

"I think I'm pretty smart, yeah," Harry said, smirking down at her.

"Bet you think you have me right where you want me," Tracey said, lowering her voice as Harry eyed her lips, "You think you'll charm me into getting a big old snake tattooed on my arm, huh?"

They were standing very close now, definitely within kissing distance, and Harry still looked far too smug for Tracey's liking.

Tracey grinned wickedly, "Pity I'm into girls, really. If you aimed to seduce me into joining the dark side, you would have had more luck sending the pretty little thing that the Dark Lord keeps on the side."

Harry grinned, "Well played."

Tracey smirked over her shoulder at him, "See you later, Harry!"

* * *

Harry had been trying to pick his moment to catch Neville, but it seemed that the Gryffindor was avoiding him because every time a class finished, he dashed away before Harry could pull him aside. He had been carefully observing Neville's interactions with Ginny too, and it seemed like he had been pulling away from her as well.

As such, Harry lay in wait and ambushed him after dinner. Neville jumped out of his skin when Harry grabbed him by the arm and signed, " _How are you?"_

Neville glared at him and leant against the wall while he caught his breath, " _You scared me, you idiot."_

Harry grinned and signed, " _Well, I am naturally terrifying."_

Neville snorted and raised an eyebrow.

Harry signed, " _Seriously. Are you okay?"_

Neville nodded and signed back, " _Fine."_

Harry didn't look convinced, " _Totally okay with your girlfriend's alter-ego, you know…"_

He acted out his head blowing up, and Neville punched him in the shoulder, " _You are a fucking idiot."_

Harry grinned, in response, " _You are okay, then."_

" _I'm fine with that,"_ Neville signed.

" _It's the push and pull that is getting to me. You hide it well, but you want me on your side, probably as Death Eater_."

Harry didn't deny it; he just nodded.

" _And the Army of the Phoenix wants me too. They apologised for my grandmother when I retrieved her body. I gave her a basic funeral, you know?"_

Harry nodded.

" _They seemed desperate. They gave me this big guilt trip about how I was their last hope. They said I was just as important to them as you had been."_

Harry rolled his eyes, " _Bullshit. You're their back-up boy-who-lived, I told you that."_

" _I know,"_ Neville signed, " _But I don't know how much longer they can pull me for before I rip in half."_

" _You need to pick a side,"_ Harry signed, catching Neville's eye, " _Make a decision."_

" _I know. If this is what it feels like to be you, then it must suck to be you all the time."_

Harry snorted and signed, " _Well, it hasn't been a picnic, honestly, but this is different than it was with me. One side wanted to kill me, and the other painted me as their messiah. This is different; everybody wants you. You're like the hot girl that everyone wants."_

Neville snorted and signed, " _I'm the hot girl?"_

Harry grinned in amusement, " _You're the hottest girl,"_ he signed.

A snort sounded behind them, and Harry spun around, "Daphne! You're back."

Neville signed behind Harry's back, " _The bitch is back."_

Daphne chuckled and signed, " _I will kill you."_

Neville just grinned, and Harry looked between them in amusement.

"Could we go for a walk, Potter?" Daphne asked, looking back to Harry, "There have been some developments this week that I think we should discuss."

"'We need to talk' would have sufficed," Harry said, waving at Neville and holding out his arm for Daphne.

She looked at it, raised an eyebrow and said, "You might have saved my sister, but really?"

Harry smiled, "Worth a shot?"

Daphne shook her head, and they fell into step together in the icy grounds.

"How is your sister?" Harry asked.

Daphne sighed and pulled her cloak closer for comfort rather than for warmth, "Honestly? Not good. My father is keeping her at home for the foreseeable future. She doesn't feel safe anywhere else, and if I'm honest, I don't think he feels comfortable having her away from him after what happened."

"I can understand that," Harry admitted.

"It was hard enough getting him to let me come back to school," Daphne admitted, "I had to tell him that the Dark Lords favourite henchman had a crush on me to convince him that I would be safe here."

She had said it in jest, but Harry chuckled, "Well, it's true. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Daphne didn't say anything; she just looked away.

"But after what happened to Theo…" Harry said with a shake of his head, "I'm not going to involve myself with people. It's too..."

"Painful?" Daphne asked.

Harry shrugged, "Not the word I was looking for."

"Of course it wasn't," Daphne said slyly.

"I'm sorry, you know?" Harry said, still not looking at her, "He was your cousin, and I got him killed."

"Ron Weasley killed him," Daphne reminded Harry, "And yes, he was my cousin, but Astoria is my sister, and she is alive because of you."

Harry looked up at her.

"Do not think that I take that lightly because I promise you that I don't," Daphne said sincerely, "I meant what I said when I asked you for help. You, and by extension, the Dark Lord have my loyalty in whatever capacity that you want it."

"I don't want you to become a Death Eater," Harry said instantly, "I _do_ intend on protecting you and making you a Death Eater wouldn't be conducive to that."

"And what if I told you that I wanted in?" Daphne asked, her eyes on his, "That I wanted vengeance?"

"I would still say no," Harry said, reaching out and grabbing her hand, "Because take it from me, vengeance is not worth the stain it leaves on your soul.

Daphne looked down at their joined hands and ran her thumb along the scars that read 'I must not tell lies'.

"How is it that your hands are scarred from war, but I trust them completely?" Daphne asked, looking up at him once more.

"I don't know," Harry replied. These days Daphne was about the only person who could reduce him to that 15-year-old boy who couldn't string a sentence together.

Daphne smiled and leant forward, kissing him on the cheek just as Narcissa had.

"You have my loyalty, and I will swear it at the next full moon," She said, drawing back, "But as you requested, I won't become a Death Eater."

Harry smiled, "Thank you."

Daphne laughed, "No, Harry, thank _you_ ," she said.

They fell into step together; instinctively. Harry walked towards the treeline around the lake. It was a place he found relaxing, and he had done since his third year.

"So these developments you wanted to discuss?"

"Hm," Daphne said with a nod, "My sister doubts her loyalties."

Harry frowned, "Your older sister?"

"Lydia, yes," Daphne said with a nod, "She wrote me a letter. It didn't say much, just that she wished Astoria well and that she was desperate to see her but that the Order wouldn't let her leave the safe house."

"Well, they will be reluctant to lose anyone else after the Battle of Longbottom Grove," Harry mused.

"I don't quite know how Lydia got drawn into it," Daphne admitted, "It just seems that luck has not been in her favour. She married Lee because she had to, and even my father could see that."

Harry chuckled, "She was pregnant?"

"Uh-huh," Daphne replied, "And a baby born _in_ wedlock to a muggle-born is better than one born out of wedlock to an unnamed father."

"True," Harry mused, "What age is her daughter?"

"Rhea will be one next month," Daphne replied, "It was because of her that my father and Lydia fell out. He was worried that the baby would be a squib-"

"Just because the father was a muggle-born?" Harry asked in surprise.

Daphne shook her head, "Because he was a mediocre wizard as well as a muggle-born."

"Ah," Harry realised, "So what did he do? Kidnap the baby and take her to one of the top research facilities in another country?"

Daphne shot Harry an amused look, "It's alarming how well you understand my fathers thought process."

"It's more alarming how predictable he is," Harry drawled.

Daphne chuckled, "He took Rhea to France. Lydia and Lee were freaking out, but the results came back that she was a squib. He and Lydia had the biggest argument ever after that, and he disowned her."

"Then she fell in with the light through her husband, I suppose," Harry mused, "The Lee you are referring to is Lee Jordan, right? Your sister was a Ravenclaw in Fred and George's year?"

Daphne nodded, "I'm the only one who was in Slytherin like my mother. The other two followed my father's footsteps."

"Well, sometimes it pays to be unique," Harry said, smiling over at her.

"The reason I mentioned my sister's doubt was because I had hoped you might be able to spare her," Daphne confessed, "I think, given a second chance, she would come back to us."

Harry nodded, "I promise, if I can, I'll make sure we spare her."

It seemed like those words had lifted a weight off Daphne's shoulders. She breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Thank you, Harry."

* * *

"Ginny – my favourite banshee."

Ginny looked up at Harry in exasperation, "Harry – my favourite Death Eater!" she replied sarcastically.

Harry grinned and sat down opposite her at the Gryffindor table, "How are you?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Let me think about that. My mother is dead, and from what Aideen tells me, a psychotic, starving banshee has taken control of her body. Oh, and that banshee is on the loose with Merlin knows what kind of vendetta on her mind. Two of my brothers are hunting, said psycho-mother-banshee, and you literally just bled out another of my brothers."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "Bad week then?"

"Bad year," Ginny muttered irritably.

"You saw what Ron did. You know he deserved it," Harry pointed out.

"Shall we just agree that his stupidity got him killed? Because anyone with common sense would know not to curse _your_ boyfriend in the back," Ginny said darkly, "That makes you angry, and nobody liked you when you're angry _before_ you were a Death Eater."

Harry nodded again, "Fair point. I would apologise, but I'm not sorry for killing him. Are you sorry for blowing up Augusta's head?"

Ginny glared at him, "I didn't do that, Aideen did."

"Yeah, but you unlocked the door and said, 'go on girl, out you go, dinners ready', didn't you?"

Ginny's glare intensified, and her eyes flashed, then burned amber. She screwed them shut, but they were still the most avid shade of amber when they opened. Some of the people sitting near them screamed, but Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Good morning Aideen. Are you feeling happily sated?"

Aideen gave him an exasperated look, "You are aware that when you rile Ginny up, it forces me out?"

"Of course I am, but frankly, your more fun to talk to."

Aideen laughed and spoke in her thick Irish accent, "Flattery will get you nowhere. Banshees only mate to produce offspring. As soon as they have been impregnated, they murder their mate."

Harry made a face, "Yeah, suddenly, I'm less interested in you."

Aideen cocked her head at him, "The next time I have to tell you to leave Ginny alone, I will not be doing it with words."

"Point taken," Harry said.

Aideen nodded and bowed her head. She closed her eyes, and when they re-opened, they were brown.

"She's kind of scary," Harry remarked.

"She's an ancient magical creature who feeds on fear," Ginny pointed out.

"Hm," Harry agreed, "Where's Nev-Nev?"

"Do I look like his mother? I don't keep tabs on him," Ginny replied, "What do you want with him anyway?"

"His decision," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Ginny, "He's spoken to you about that, I presume."

Ginny eyed Harry, "What makes you think I would tell you if he had?"

"Oh, come on, we're friends again now, aren't we?"

"Friends is a strong word," Ginny said as Harry helped himself to a sausage from her plate.

"I'm wounded, truly, Ginevra," Harry said with a sigh.

The entire Gryffindor table was listening in on their conversation, but neither of them seemed too concerned about that.

"So, what it's going to be, Gin?" Harry asked, taking a bite of the sausage he had just nicked, "Because wherever Neville goes, you will follow when you turn 17, so really, this is a joint decision. Is it your first one as a couple? Is this the big 'should we move in together, are we ready, oh I just don't know' debate?"

Ginny glared at him, "Bite me."

Harry grinned and got to his feet, "If you want me to bite you, buy me dinner first!" he called as he made his way back to the Slytherin table.

* * *

"Is he flirting with her or riling her up?" Tracey asked, cocking her head at Harry and Ginny.

"Knowing Potter? Both," Daphne replied dryly.

"Oh, I have missed your dry humour," Tracey said, nudging her friend in the ribs, "Are you jealous?"

"Of a man who is at best a manwhore and at worst a borderline sociopath?" Daphne quipped.

Sophie chuckled, "He's hot, though."

"Kind of beautiful actually," Someone else said.

"So is lava. It doesn't mean you should touch it," Daphne said, tearing her eyes away from Harry.

"He's an arse," Tracey agreed, "But a compelling one. He almost convinced me to join his ranks, and I don't even like dudes."

Draco shot Tracey an amused smile, "Will you be taking your place with your brothers at the next full moon? The Dark Lord is keen for you to do so."

"Yes, Potter said as much in his attempt to seduce me," Tracey said, "And to be honest, I haven't entirely decided yet."

"Neither has Longbottom, so it seems," Blaise said as he watched the Gryffindor table.

Draco looked at the dark-skinned man; he had narrowed eyes as if he was concentrating immensely.

"Are you reading their lips?"

Blaise sighed in a long-suffering way, "Yes, I would be if I didn't have to answer inane questions."

Daphne chuckled, and Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh, okay, boss," he muttered sarcastically.

"Well, if you do decide to come to the initiation on the full moon, I will be there too," Daphne said.

Tracey looked at her in surprise, "You're becoming a Death Eater?"

"No, I am just swearing my loyalty to the Dark Lord and possibly my families if I can convince my father to talk to Potter at Theo's funeral," Daphne said as she spun her wand between her fingers.

"But Potter asked that I do not become a Death Eater."

Draco snorted, "Could he be any more predictable if he tried? The Dark Lord has forbidden him from being romantically involved with other Death Eaters, so his solution is to tell you that you can't be one?"

"He asked me actually; he didn't tell me to do anything," Daphne argued, "And I very much doubt he's going to be getting romantically involved with anyone after what happened to Theo. He'll use people for sex, but that is all his conquests are to him."

"I don't even think you believe that," Tracey muttered under her breath.

Daphne responded by cursing her friend with a spell that made her mouth disappear, just as Harry arrived at the Slytherin table. Tracey glared at her, and Daphne smiled sweetly in response.

"Cat got your tongue, Tracey?"

*** TBC ***


End file.
